


Mode of Survival

by Snow_drop_leaves137



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending in the works, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Jealous Eren Yeager, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, definitely need to tag tragedy as a heads up, honestly didn't realize how slow this would be...., lots more angst towards the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24324121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_drop_leaves137/pseuds/Snow_drop_leaves137
Summary: You never wanted to be a soldier. But the world is cruel and you’ve set your mind firmly on what you were willing to fight for in it.You initially dismissed Eren’s words of destroying every titan and reclaiming the land beyond the walls.Yet, his passion kept luring you in, enticing you to dream of something more.But what will you do when his ultimate plansclashagainst what you stand for?[Tags will be updated as the story progresses]
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader
Comments: 169
Kudos: 464





	1. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: First day, First impressions.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Attack on Titan

It’s so hot.

You tilt your head upwards and glare futilely at the relentless onslaught from the body of heat.

Maybe it just feels worse under everybody else’s apprehension.

Your eyes slide over to the left, as another cadet-in-training gets chewed out mercilessly.

How many hours has it been since this welcome interrogation started?

You rub your fingers together in your stance and contemplate relieving your clammy palms off the waistband of your trousers. The first four attempts proved to no avail.

Were you nervous or was the heat getting to you? You weren’t sure. 

“I want to make it to the Military Police so I can live safely inside Wall Sina!”

You crane your neck to see who had the balls to state something so shamelessly.

The offender sprouts two tones of brown hair with a darker undercut. He visibly shivers under the glower of your interrogator who was not a big fan of the boy’s words.

You don’t blame the boy for wanting security

_That guy gets it_ , you muse to yourself as you watch your sergeant slam his head into the poor boy’s head so hard, he falls to the ground. At least he’s honest. 

You stare longingly at the shade that’s being cast from the nearby sheds, tuning out your surroundings.

What more can your mind do right now, than to wander?

You end up reflecting on how much civilization has changed since titans first breached Wall Maria. Unfortunately, the news had spread late to your tiny village.

You will never forget the fear from that day.

* * *

You were were only a child when they arrived, but despite the harrowing years that have since passed, the memory of their initial presence seared itself fresh in your mind. 

You felt the earth beneath you shake before you saw them. Those terrifying beasts with their lifeless eyes and monstrous appetite for human flesh.

The tickets for the evening's ferry sat padded between your identification documents and petty cash, tucked in your inner-jacket pocket.

Why couldn’t the titans arrive just one day later? When you were safely inside Rose?

“F/N, we need to leave NOW!” your mother screamed as she sprinted into your home. 

Your eyes stay trained on a large, 7 meter titan further down the path where your modest, childhood house sits. It had grabbed your beloved elementary teacher, without any real effort, trapping her in its merciless grip. The woman who proudly carried an unflappable demeanor was howling out of desperation, pleading for mercy. Her cries were cut short as the titan ruthlessly snapped its jaws around her, crushing her bones with a sickening snap. You wish you could unhear it.

The titan turned and from its distance of 100 meters away, it noticed you. 

A horrible realization paralyzed you, draining your breath and rooting you in your spot.

It’s going to hunt you.

It’s face contorts and its uneven footsteps move in your direction. Each long stride strips away your agency, making you feel more and more like prey. 

You didn’t even register that your mother emerged from your home, until you felt your bag hurled at your chest. You clumsily cling to it, while still being completed fixated by this titan. The tremors from its steps match your own.

It’s closing in quickly. 

On the other hand, your mother isn’t letting herself be deterred by fear. She galloped her horse over and flung you the reins of your own. 

Bellowing at you to move.

To survive.

It took all your strength to pull your small, petrified body up and onto your saddle. You jerked your horse away, just as the enormous beast reached the steps of your home. Seconds later and you may not have been so lucky.

Your mind was moving too slowly to process this. Neither of you had time to take the few bags you packed for your departure. Just the ones currently on your backs. Your only supplies until you reach Wall Rose.

The screams of your villagers pierced through your daze, and you couldn't help but look back. The titan was no longer chasing you, but your face twists in despair as you watched your village be ravaged by hoards of other titans. They bulldozed through homes, barns, and buildings with little resistance. The familiar structures you grew up with sank to the ground, swallowed by a slow-raging fire.

“Don’t look back, F/N!” she warned, tone admonishing as she catches you staring.

“Mother, that’s our home,” you choked out, as tears pour down the sides of your face.

“Baby, it’s not anymore. Our only path now is forward. Always keep your eyes forward!” she shouted, as she urged her horse to gallop faster. 

You guide your horse to follow her breakneck speed away, and don’t think twice again about leaving.

* * *

“You look soft, Cadet!” a voice barks, walking closer and closer to you.

You break out of your daydream to look up and meet your drill sergeant’s cold, stern eyes.

Keith Shadis. The Survey Corp’s previous commander. A man you do not want to cross.

Or sneer down at you.

“Where’s a weak-looking maggot like you from?” he hisses.

“F/N L/N, reporting from Xayah Village, Sir,” you state and salute him stiffly.

Shadis scoffs and laughs loudly at your introduction.

“Xayah Village? Where all the vagrant freeloaders live?”

Your face stays impassive. Even though you hated those labels, you expected this reaction.

Xayah does not produce major exports or contribute heavily to agricultural production. It unfortunately has gotten a reputation for taking in more government assistance than other similar-sized villages. Even though you and your mother have stayed there throughout your entire life, that is outside the norm of your community. Most of your village's nomadic lifestyle was frowned upon.

Even so, your village is renowned for your performance arts. Your family has taken pride in training several generations of dancers, who have exhibited your craft for prominent audiences, including the royal court.

However, your family has always kept a low profile and preferred to dance for average folks, and rarely charge for your performances. You have built a strong rapport with your neighboring districts, and even some towns and families within Wall Rose and Wall Sina. The philosophy behind your acts were to inspire hope and joy despite the conditions of society. Anyone should be able to access that aspiration. 

In contrast, other performing families have let the riches and fame get to their head and moved inside Wall Sina to constantly entertain the higher classes.They’ve practically abandoned the integrity of their art just to live life cushy within the innermost walls. 

Your art of dancing was to heal, and no amount of corrupt money could change that.

Not that Shadis would know beyond the rumors. 

You try your best not to let his disrespect for your family’s honor and traditions rattle you.

“That’s what they call us.” You confirm, ignoring the effects of his insult. 

“What makes you think you belong here?” he gruffs.

“I’m here to protect the peace within our society, fight its evils, and pursue justice,” you answer without hesitation.

“Fight the evils in our walls? Sounds like a load of gypsy bullshit,” the ex-commander laughs even louder.

Shadis leers closer and places a condescending hand on your right shoulder, weighing it down heavily.

“That’s rich coming from a freeloader. You think you’ll make a difference here?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you state coldly, returning a fierce gaze. You’re not going to back down. He doesn’t push you any further. 

As Shadis retracts his hand and moves away, your face darkens as you reflect why you signed up for the training corps. 

* * *

After watching your village submit to the will of the titans, you and your mother had made it safely inside Wall Rose.

However, your feelings of relief were short-lived.

The on-going food shortage was only exasperated by the influx of Wall Maria’s refugees. 

While you both were put to work, plowing the fields to reap any sort of produce, your mother was organizing a way out.

She was cunning and resourceful, and was working her connections to try and transfer you two safer inside the walls. She knew of another family and spent months corresponding to move you both into Wall Sina. She diligently gathered all your documents and ensured your approval papers were ready.

The day had come for you to make the move.

You anxiously followed her as she strode confidently up to the two officers who had denied nearly everyone in front of you at this gate entrypoint.

She stated her businesses and presented her papers, outlining all the approval measures and hoops she had to jump through to make it to this point.

Like the others before you, the military police didn’t let you through.

After glancing at your listed occupation as entertainers, the larger officer openly ridiculed you. 

“You can’t be serious. Wall Sina can’t afford to waste any more tax dollars supporting parasitic scoundrels,’ he brutally sniped, looking at you both with such disdain that you bite your tongue from lashing out. 

Your mother had considered lying about your occupation, but any sort of forgery would have made the approvals even more difficult. 

“Our art is meaningful, but if you don’t want to hear about that, my daughter and I have been laboring since the day we got here to provide food and water for this town. We are hard workers and will bring that ethic into Wall Sina, so you won’t be wasting anything on us,” your mother furiously fought back. 

It all fell on deaf ears.

She cuts off and both your eyes widened in horror when the man rips up your notarized papers. Months of her diligence destroyed in seconds. 

“We have too many fake letters and signatures to deal with. You’re just wasting our time at this point. Run along now,” he patronized, throwing the pieces on the ground while his colleague snickered next to him.

You can only gape at the gross injustice of the situation.

How can these bastards misuse so much power?

Your mother placed both her hands on your shoulders, and pushed you away from the offending officers.

“No matter. My daughter and I will endure. I only hope you can sleep well at night, knowing how you treated your citizens today,” she stated calmly.

You walked away slowly from the grotesque pair, and your eyes furious pleaded up toward your mother.

“How can they do that?? What right do they have to talk to us that way and destroy our chance at life!” you exclaimed, tightening your smaller fists, so hard your nails dig into your palm.

She took your angry hands into hers, and loosened your grip. She hated seeing you hurt yourself like this.

“You can’t fight an entire system that’s corrupt. We will just have to find another way to live then,” she said confidently.

“But Mother, there’s barely enough for us to keep going here,” you said, trying hard not to let your desperation show.

She shook her head, and you couldn’t help but notice how her once powerful body looks so meek now. 

“Like I said, F/N. We will withstand this one way or another,” she said, smiling down at you brilliantly as always.

As much as you believed in her words at the time, reality had other plans. It wasn’t long after the winter months hit, that she came down with pneumonia. 

Her weakened state couldn’t fight off the infection. The affliction continued to fester until it became too severe for the local doctors to stand a chance at treating it.

In the blink of an eye, she passed just a few short weeks later.

* * *

Months later, another pair of Military Police Officers approached you.

Your body seethed at the sight of them and braced for whatever disgrace they were planning to pull.

Fortunately, they brought news that you had another chance to make it within the walls. A close performing family, who was more renowned within Wall Sina was willing to take you in. The Parsons.They had always been kind to you during your prior travels. 

You peered at the letter in their hands and grasped it lightly, as if it would crumble if you wished too hard.

Your expression hardened. Why is this coming to you now? Why does this piece of parchment matter more than the one your mother had presented months earlier?

You sized up the officers in front of you. Would they grant your entry and show you mercy unlike the ones you encountered at the gate checkpoint?

You realized it didn’t matter.

They were all the same in your eyes. Perpetrating their unfair judgement of who they arbitrarily believe is worthy of living. 

So you declined. 

You refused to live in a society that would turn away its own people.

* * *

Is this what Mother would have wanted?

For you to throw away your safety and risk upsetting the rigid system that wasn’t built to support you?

No. It isn't.

Your eyes readjust to the columns of other cadets surrounding you in the middle of base camp and you ground yourself deeper into the dry soil.

Your fist around your heart tightens. You allow your face to deeply scowl as you let out a low growl.

Even if this wasn't what she wanted, there’s no reason to doubt yourself now.

You’ve made your decision. Your only goal these next three years is to make it within the walls through the Military Police. Where you will dutifully dedicate yourself as one less corrupt officer in their crooked, self-serving regiment.

As you sit under your cloud of determination, you don’t notice a boy your age a few columns down mirror your same energy.

But he notices you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	2. Similarities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Your list of similarities appear short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's disclaimer: I don't own anything regarding Attack on Titan.

“Is this seat taken?”

A young teen looks up and sees you inspecting the spot next to his right. The rest of his table sits empty. He pauses to sweep your presence before shifting over to grant you the extra room. 

You settle in and immediately dig into your meal. It’s been a long day, and they didn’t bother feeding you anything earlier. You’re sure it’s all part of shaping your resolve into becoming competent soldiers.

Nonetheless, your body ravenously digs into your half portioned bowl of thin stew. As the pangs of hunger subside, you chew thoughtfully as you rack your brain for your dinner buddy’s name.

“You know,” you drawl out, in between bites, “we all watched you fall on your ass, but for the life of me I can’t recall your name.”

His amber eyes shoot up.

“It’s Jean. Jean Kirstein from Trost District,” he introduces in a testy manner. You wonder if he’s almost offended you didn’t remember.

“Hmm, I’ll try to remember better next time,” your amused eyes meet his calculative ones, and he lets out a soft grunt in return.

“F/N L/N, Xayah Village,” you introduce as you extend your right hand out. 

Jean firmly grasps yours and then pulls you closer in to examine you intently.

“Tell me you aren’t pretending to serve the military with false noble intentions, ” he whispers harshly.

You snicker at his unwavering judgement before yanking your hand away.

Folding your arms over the old, wooden table, you lean your upper body towards the trainee.

“Don’t be mistaken. We’re all here to get closer inside the walls. Reasons don’t matter. At least you’re not chickenshit about admitting it.”

The wide grin on his long face indicates he approves of your response. 

“You seem friendly, given the competitive nature of our training here,” Jean looks at you suspiciously. 

"Well, I'll need allies once I get into the Military Police," you say in a cavalier manner.

“Is that so? Well, I’ll be in high demand soon, so you better get on the waiting list,” he responds with a haughty smirk, crossing his arms. 

You snort at his seemingly perpetual arrogance, “ Give me time to assess whether you’re even worth my time.”

You both share a chuckle and the comfort of mutual understanding fills the air between you two. 

“I haven’t heard much about Xayah before,” Jean says leaning back, as he begins stacking his empty plates on top of each other.

You shrug as you stir the remaining less desirable contents of your soup around. 

“Not much to note. We’re small and more remote so we’re pretty removed from Wall Maria’s cities in general.”

He doesn’t push any further. There’s an unspoken implication of what happened after the titan attack to smaller villages that aren’t plugged into the larger messenger system.

A ring of chatter catches your attention and you turn your head to follow the commotion. 

A growing crowd gathers themselves around a brunette with lake green eyes. He doesn’t seem to mind being forced onto center stage, smoothly fielding questions left and right. 

“ Eren, Is it true? You’re from Shiganshina District?” a girl with dazzling eyes asks. 

“Yes,” the boy responds. 

Your ears perk up. You rarely meet others who had survived a direct titan attack.

“So you were there when the Colossus Titan and Armoured Titan broke Wall Maria!” a voice expresses, eagerly seeking validation.

“Is that what people call them?” he replies. 

He pauses to reflect, and says nonchalantly, “Honestly, in all the panic, they looked like any other titans to me.”

“Incredible! Can you tell us what titans are really like?” the same boy presses on, fascinated by Eren’s retelling thus far. 

You’re startled at the bold and rather insensitive request. 

You pause as you watch how Eren will handle the inquiry.

How can he retell the tales of trauma that come with encountering those mindless beasts? Had he felt the same incapacitating fear that gripped your soul? Does he still wake up sometimes, heart pounding with those monsters pursuing him deep into his subconscious? 

Instead of articulating your thoughts, Eren freezes up and drops his spoon, hand rattling as they clutch at his mouth. Your eyes soften as you watch his face glaze over and you don’t wish to know what he’s reliving in his mind right now. 

You frown at your fellow cadets. Hadn’t they considered that framing requests that way can be retriggering? Clearly, they seem more concerned about entertaining the notions of titans rather than the first hand experience of surviving titans itself. 

“Tch, he thinks he’s such a know-it-all,” Jean scoffs, as his eyebrows furrow and he taps his fingers rhythmically on the table, acting rather juvenile at Eren’s attention. You’re too focused on your own internal frustration to respond. 

Luckily, a freckled-faced boy notices the sudden pressure in the room, and turns around to chastise the crowd.

“Everyone, that’s enough. We shouldn’t be prying so closely like that,” he starts.

“No, it’s not a problem,” Eren interjects as he takes a mouthful of his bread that he is holding loosely in his right hand.

His audience grows silent, anticipating his next words.

“Those titans....they’re not a big deal at all,” he proclaims.

Your face pales and you ball both your hands into fists. Is he trying to reassure the crowd? This isn’t the way to do so.

“Besides, once we master the omni-directional gear it will be easy to conquer titans. The Scout Regiment will lead us to victory, and once I join their ranks, I’ll be right there with them leading the fight!” he declares, clutching his fists and banging them on his table. 

Any sympathy you had for Eren disappeared at this point.

Your eyes narrow and your grit your teeth. His purpose here is to join the Scouts and willingly take on those beasts? 

If it was that easy to get rid of titans, the Scouts wouldn’t hold a tarnished reputation of wasting valuable tax dollars just to run towards their death sentences. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been notable progress made from that branch since its inception.

Maybe Eren’s encounter with titans left him with some brain damage. 

Your disapproval must have been evident throughout your entire body, because Jean’s eyes widen when he glances over at you. An almost audible click goes off in his brain.

“You’ve seen them before haven’t you?”

You stare at him silently, but he knows your answer.

Jean turns with a long smirk on his face, as he decides to confront the male occupying most of the room’s attention. 

“Hey, are you fucking crazy?” Jean blurts out loudly at Eren. 

The accused trainee looks over and narrows his eyes at your new acquaintance. 

“Selecting the Regiment practically guarantees suicide, I wouldn’t talk about joining them so casually,” Jean berates.

“Oh?” Eren questions as he rises from his seat, “who are you to judge me when you’re obviously set on hiding further and further within the walls at first chance?”

“Coward,” he spits out as he advances toward you two. 

Jean doesn’t back down, and continues with his insertion. You don’t see how continuing this conversation can serve any meaningful purpose, since these two clearly refuse to see each other’s point. 

But it’s not your fight, so you don’t say anything. 

“Look man. I’m just being honest. Isn’t it better to be real about our intentions here than pretending we’re mightier-than-thou arrogant little shits? Don’t act like you’re not just as scared as the rest of us,” Jean says but cuts off when he sees Eren being held back by another cadet, just a mere threatening foot away.

“Are you trying to start shit with me Horseface?” Eren sneers back.

Jean did not take kindly to the nickname.

Their conversation only escalates from there.

Your hands fly to your temple, and you lightly rub on a few pressure points. You sigh and try to tune out their shouting.

However, your efforts are pointless. You’re too tired to stand witness to this argument.

It’s been a long day. 

You pocket your untouched bread and shove yourself away from your seat.

Walking over to the disposal station, you forcibly slam your dishes into an empty bin. The sharp, metal clattering startles everyone within your vicinity.

Eren and Jean stop mid-opposition, tracing the noise to find you glaring at them.

“Why bother to waste our time here, if we can’t even pretend to have solidarity on our first day?” you ask rhetorically.

You aim your words at the two offenders, but you hope your statement reaches every pair of ears in the room. What’s the point in dedicating your lives to the military if you can’t count on each other?

You turn on your heel and walk away, not particularly caring if they listen to you or not.

* * *

A crisp, evening breeze flows through your senses once you step outside, and it immediately calms your nerves.

The girl’s barracks are nearby but you don’t feel like being anywhere near people right now. Instead, you chose to head towards the deserted storage sheds. You plop down on the steps and stretch your legs out, letting out a deep sigh.

Your right hand plays with the bread you took, flipping it in cycles within your pants pocket as you run your fingernails alongside its ridges.

Eren’s words send your mind drifting back to titans again. Replaying the terror of watching your people get eaten and your community destroyed. Hating how you felt like nothing but game, being so close to a beast that hunted without hesitation.

But you never imagined that the cruelty of humans could match the cruelty of titans.

At least titan’s aren’t capable of thinking beyond seeking humans and devouring them. Humans will deliberately watch as they send their own beyond the walls in the name of reclaiming Wall Maria, when everyone knew those people were being marched to their deaths.

All because the government couldn’t ration food out properly. Or refused to. You remember seeing Military Police hoard extra rations while an endless sea of skeletal hands begged for any sort of nutrition that day. 

You’ve seen the unjust distribution of resources when you visited the interiors of Wall Sina. You were dumbfounded to discover the absolute gigantic castles of nobles, how the food markets were filled to the brim with fresh options, and the everyday luxuries the people there have come to expect. 

You don’t remember any of the cadets here hailing from a hometown within Wall Sina. That can’t be purely by coincidence. 

You hear a snap echo off the ground and you look up, wondering who else is on the training grounds at this hour. 

You’re surprised to see Eren round the corner. He stops walking when he spots you.

It’s dark out, so you miss the spark of recognition that flits across his face. 

You raise an eyebrow and pull your hands out of your pocket to rest them on the steps.

“Decided to cool off after your show earlier?” you instigate, looking up at your guest.

Eren snorts, kicking at the ground lightly.

“Your friend doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Arrogant and ignorant, you may want to align yourself elsewhere,” he responds.

You huff lightly at his rashness. Though his words were a little dramatic, you find his energy compelling.

“You can’t blame the guy for protecting himself in this miserable world, can you?” you ask lightheartedly, knowing he’ll disagree.

Eren tightens his stance defensively and grinds out his next words.

“He wasn’t there when the titans attacked. To be reminded that we’re nothing but trapped livestock. Why retreat within the walls, when the fight that needs to happen is out there,” Eren states, pointing his finger in a direction beyond the darkened skyline.

He brings up fair points, and you don’t respond right away.

He scowls at you, daring you to counter him.

“I’ve seen them too,” you instead offer after a moment of silence.

Eren startles, caught off guard with your words. His scowl drops and he hesitates before walking closer to you, deciding he wants to hear more.

Seeing his interest, you continue.

“My village received word too late, The message that came through stated titans would reach us the next day. We’re so isolated, the ferries to Wall Maria only serve us a couple times a week anyways. A few hours later that same evening, they arrived. My people didn’t stand a chance,” you say, pulling your knees closer, and resting your arms on top of your kneecaps.

“I’m...sorry to hear that,” Eren says a little awkwardly, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t apologize," you reply, " I can’t imagine how you deal with the nightmares and thoughts that come with what you’ve seen." You pat the space next to you, extend him a seat which he takes.

Your eyes glaze over as you stare into the sky, infinite with its mysteries and wisdom of the earth.

“It consumes me,” you confess softly.

You have always hated admitting that. It chips away at your psyche when you reflect how truly weak and powerless you are in this world dominated by titans and the elites. 

A heavy silence settles between you two. You didn’t mind it. 

“So you know what it’s like to be around them. To be reminded that you’re prey. ”

You nod your head tightly. You understand too well. 

“Not much of a life, building ourselves to survive so poorly under their conditions,” you mutter, meeting his gaze.

“We can't keep merely existing in this kind of world,” Eren says.

He turns to hold your line of sight. His eyes shine with invigoration as he exchanges a confession of his own.

“I’m going to destroy every last one of those ugly, disgusting titans."

Your eyes widen at his declaration. Even more extreme than his one over dinner. 

“Once they’re all gone, we no longer have to live under their tyranny. With the scouts, we'll have the means to achieve our freedom,” Eren continues, eyes burning with conviction.

You unconsciously shift away from him. You don’t feel comfortable with the way this conversation has turned.

You rack your brain as you choose your next words carefully.

“Eren, I admire your aspirations. But I think honestly the Military Police is where you need to be if you want to truly look at the issues plaguing our society,” you say slowly. 

The air between you quickly thickens. A small chill runs through your body, as you watch the previous fire in his eyes fade. 

“How can you say that? You know better than anyone else here what it means to live like this. Why not eliminate the monsters holding our lives captive?” Eren asks almost incredulously. 

His bright emeralds investigate yours, searching for unity.

“I’ve learned that there are bigger problems outside of just titans in this world,” you reply as you break his intense gaze and sweep your eyes to the ground.

A moment stiffly passes.

“I see. You would rather waste away inside these walls then fight back.”

A quick pain shoots through your chest as you feel stunned by his accusation. 

“W-what that’s not true -” you start but then quickly stop.

He waits a few seconds for you to continue. 

Your mouth opens again to retort, but you can’t find the proper words to articulate how you feel.

You’re angry at how he decided to trample over your vulnerability. 

You’re in disbelief that he would dismiss your viewpoints solely because they differed from his. 

You’re a little desperate for the connection you thought you would have with another cadet here and a little disappointed that it was misguided. You’ve both survived the titan attacks as children, how many others here can claim the same?

Seeing your frozen manner, Eren roughly pushes himself off the steps.

He tosses you a lasting dirty look over his shoulder before walking away, displeased that you two aren’t on the same page.

Your stomach turns and you sit with the discomfort. 

As you watch Eren’s form retreat, you doubt the rest of your appetite will return.

It bothers you that Eren left the conversation painting you as someone who would put her own survival above the rest of humanity. Once you dedicate yourself as a soldier, your life no longer becomes just your own. For him to insinuate otherwise irks you to your core. 

It also just so happens that the branch you are vying for is tucked deep within Wall Sina. You didn’t design the system, so you shouldn’t feel guilty.

You admonish yourself for letting him get to you. You know why you’re here. You won’t let some mightier-than-thou arrogant little shit plant a seed of doubt in your mind. 

Sighing, you push yourself off your seat. It’s time to rest for the night.

The lingering agitation adds a boost in your step and you let it guide your pace. As you round the final corner quickly, anxious to take refuge in your sheets, you abruptly collide with another figure.

The force of your powerful stride knocks a much smaller girl right off her feet. She yelps as she tumbles to the ground, dropping the contents in her arms.

Your face heats in embarrassment, and you immediately sputter out, “ I-I’m sorry!”

You drop to your knees and hurry to gather the items sprawled on the dusty ground.

“No, it’s my fault for running so fast on grounds! My name is Krista,” the girl pipes out. You introduce yourself, and pick up two of what she dropped.

“Why are you hoarding so much bread?” you ask, a little surprised that such a tiny girl could have this sort of appetite.

She sheepishly looks at you, “well, Sasha has been running laps all evening and it’s wrong to deny someone dinner after all that.”

The potato girl? You wonder how going against a direct order and risking your own punishment to assist another cadet would serve to help Krista here. The training corps doesn’t take lightly to insubordination.

Yet, she still chooses to show kindness for a stranger. A comrade. Still a stranger, nonetheless.

Her act of selflessness evokes a flicker inside you. Maybe it’s relief that you get to end your day on a positive interaction.

You reach in to take the piece that’s been sitting in your pocket this entire time.

“Here, I was going to throw it away anyways,” you lie, adding it to her pile.

Krista shines her celeste blue orbs at you in gratitude and hurries along. 

You hope these next few years won’t eat that compassion alive. 

* * *

“Listen up maggots, if you don’t have the basic skills to stay in the air, you’re packing your bags and going home tomorrow!”

Shadis’ words are harsh and you gulp as you face the towering, three-legged structure in front of you. 

You’re flanked on both sides with several other ones, each harboring swinging trainees. Before the military wastes time and resources on teaching you how to operate ODM gear, you have to first prove you’re worth the effort.

You adjust your belt harness one final time as you prepare to be strapped in. Some of your comrades are already excelling at maintaining their balance, and you made mental notes you’re hoping you can rely on.

“Pull her up!”

With the command, your feet lift off the ground. 

Your body instantly wobbles at the new sensation and you panic as you worry about tipping over. All thoughts about following the successful cadets before you evaporate.

Instinctively, you reach both your arms out and angle them to steady yourself, while using your legs to counter-balance your weight.

You feel your fast-twitch muscles hum alive with each movement.

Slowly, you make minute shifts until you’re able to figure out how to stabilize yourself. Once you find it, you lock in your core. You’re pleased to see these movements effectively keep you bobbing in place.

For a moment, you smile and your eyes radiate as you think about moving your body freely again with this gear. You’re eager to feel the familiar adrenaline rush through your bloodstream.

“Keep it up L/N, we’ll bring you down after a few more minutes,” your station officer approves.

You twist your head over your left shoulder to find Jean concentrating immensely on his balance. It pays off, as his body moves with the cords and he even begins swinging intentionally back and forth. That boy’s nature is haughty, but he’s competent enough to back it up. 

Unlike Eren.

Just beyond Jean’s machine, you see Eren struggle to make any progress with his stance. His body is completely upside down, and he is furiously contorting himself in any way possible to get himself upright.

“What’s your major malfunction Yeager? Try harder to straighten up!” Shadis bellows.

You see the rest of the color drain from his face as his eyes look on in horrible realization. You're glad you don’t have to process whatever he’s thinking.

At what point is passion and diligence not enough to justify your inability? 

* * *

During dinner, you watch as Eren flits between a few of the more capable cadets in the room, desperately seeking advice on how to improve his chances of staying in boot camp.

“Hotshot’s losing his mind. Figured he’s been full of shit this whole time,” Jean comments, snickering beside you.

You roll your eyes. He’s clearly not over yesterday’s argument with the other short-tempered boy. 

“Ah, the sun is setting soon, let’s go outside!” Connie, a shorter boy with a buzz cut, suggests to you both.

You would never turn down the opportunity to watch the sun bid its farewell, so you trail behind the two. 

You cross your arms and lean on the railing with your elbows, taking in the milky indigo and violet gradients of the evening. You tune out Connie and Jean’s conversation as you watch the rays sink further beyond the horizon and bask in its dying warmth.

Footsteps creep up behind you, and you turn to see who joined your little group.

“Hey, I saw how good you all were. Got any tricks for posture control?” the newcomer requests begrudgingly.

“Didn’t you say all high on your pedestal yesterday that those who can’t make it, shouldn’t stay here?” Jean responds, wearing a shit-eating grin.

Eren flashes his eyes at the taller teen and mutters, “I did, but I haven’t given up yet. You must have some tips you’re willing to share.”

Jean crosses his arms and smirks but doesn’t budge on the request.

“Hm, there aren’t any tricks as far as I’m concerned. My body just reacted inherently,” Connie says, also refusing to disclose anything more.

“Guess we just have the natural gifts,” Jean inserts.

Eren stops pushing, and the look of despondency on his face deepens.

“Well, we gotta get going. Good luck Eren,” Connie says, flashing him a grin that reads disingenuously. 

Jean and Connie walk off the porch, leaving you and Eren alone.

You expect Eren to storm off with them after the less than ideal conversation you had with him yesterday, but the aspiring titan-killing boy stays put. 

“Should I be offended that you asked Jean before you asked me?” you taunt, raising an eyebrow.

You swear you catch the faintest dusting on his cheeks before he sputters out, “ I thought it would be pretty low to ask favors when I don’t even know your name. ”

His response takes you a little aback.

“It’s F/N,” you answer his unofficial question.

“What can I tell you that everyone else already hasn’t?” 

He sighs deeply, and props his arms on the railing next to yours. 

“I just can’t get the motion right. Everyone says I’ll know it when I feel it, but I haven’t felt it yet, so how will I know?” he laments.

“How can I help humanity if I can’t even get through a stupid test. It’s not even a test, it’s like a pre-test,” he further grumbles, gripping his hair tightly in one of his hands. 

“Don't be so hard on yourself. You’ll get crushed by your own expectations,” you offer.

He exhales loudly, clearly still agitated about the situation.

His entire being reeks with dejection.

“I didn’t think your ambition could be cracked so easily, ” you smirk.

Eren shoots you a glare and grits out, “it isn’t. I won’t give up on my dreams so easily.”

“Then don’t,” you put simply.

He looks annoyed that neither of the three of you had given him any tangible steps that he can follow. 

You debate internally about whether to share your experience or not, but decide on the former. 

“It’s all about offsetting your weight when you’re drawn so tightly in the air. So if you put your left arm out like this, you have to draw your right leg in this way to shift your center of gravity back to your solar plexus. You follow?” you say mimicking the notions with your body.

His eyes drink in your movements and he nods earnestly. You show him a few other concrete examples, and he follows along with your motions. 

“And lastly but most importantly,” you pause briefly. 

He cranes his neck more towards you in anticipation.

“Trust yourself. It would be an insurmountable waste of your energy otherwise,” you advise. 

* * *

The next day you find yourself even steadier than before, during your aptitude test. The tethers on your harness barely vibrate as your shift into your most balanced stance.

“Good, a natural. It’ll be easy to train you. Pass,” you instructor says.

You beam at the compliment and enjoy a small sense of pride as you’re lowered back down. Your muscles ache to be used again. You look forward to breaking them down and building them back up with the ODM gear.

Most cadets are able to pass without any issue, and the ones who can’t grasp this basic maneuver are quickly sent home as promised. 

Then came time for Eren. 

He’s obviously nervous about his turn but you watch him convince himself otherwise as he is being strapped in. 

You’re not sure when you became invested in his success, but right now you hope his persistence and sheer determination is enough to get him through this checkpoint.

After a promising few seconds of staying balanced in the air, Eren violently jerks and once again topples over face-first into the ground.

You frown. 

That just doesn’t look right. How can someone mess up so badly after finding their initial balance?

Eren appears crushed as he is removed from the coils and he begs Shadis for another try. Listening to his desperation, you can’t help but start to pity him. Imagining what it would be like to rip your dreams away before you even get to begin. 

Shadis silences his pleas. He instead asks him to trade harnesses with a nearby cadet and the two quickly make their swap. 

You eagerly watch Eren as he is loaded into the machine a second time. 

Once he is pulled to the maximum height, he braces himself.

Will a miracle happen? You feel the cadets around you collectively brace themselves along with him.

At first, Eren swings harshly side to side. After making a few adjustments, he’s able to stay more steady on his tethers. He ends up remaining upright for the remaining time of the test.

“Your belt was faulty. You seem to be doing fine now. Pass,” Shadis confirms.

Cheers erupt around you wildly, and your heart races along with the exhilaration.

Eren’s gaze catches yours. His large, infectious smile elicits one of your own. You shout your approval once into the buzzing crowd. You’re glad that he doesn’t have to give up just yet. 

After the initial excitement leaves your state, a slow sense of dread replaces it. 

While you celebrate your comrade’s accomplishments, each one will ultimately bring you closer in competition with them these next three years. Supporting their accolades means potentially putting yourself at a disadvantage when it comes down to competing for a top ten spot. 

You weren't thinking about that strategically when you gave Eren pointers last night along with your encouragement.

Even if the thought crossed your mind, you wonder if you still would have shared what you did and cheered the brunette on.


	3. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Caught in the act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey! As I have continued to evolve this story (including future chapters), I noticed that I’m leaning towards writing Eren to be less of his anime adaptation and more his manga depiction, i.e. less temperamental and less exaggerated. This just fits the particular plot that I’m sticking with, but wanted to give a heads up in case this isn’t what you were looking for. Thanks for taking the time to read!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Attack on Titan.

The wind whispers harshly in your ears.

Swirls of moss green and chestnut brown from the lush forest dance along your peripherals. 

Endorphins and dopamine shoot through your body as you push yourself even further.

Faster.

Fleeting. 

Forward.

Keeping eyes on your target, you fire off your hooks. 

Your muscles ripple through your body as you launch yourself upwards into the open air.

Reeling in your tethers and dropping your weight, you use your momentum to hurl your body past your fellow trainees and slice your blades cleanly through the makeshift nape first.

If that was a real titan, in theory you would have destroyed it. 

“Goddammit F/N,” a voice groans to the left. 

“Too slow Kirstein,” you tease, turning yourself around to smirk at him and your comrades before pulling away. 

Your fast twitch muscles burn alive as you swing from tree to tree, eyes scanning the canopy for your next aim.

The straps that wind around your limbs press against you tightly as you move. Although initially uncomfortable, you now almost forget their existence keeps you securely anchored to your ODM gear. 

It didn’t take long for you to figure out your compatibility with the aerodynamics of the equipment. 

You ache to be in the open air, feeling the drag against your entire being and the weightlessness of zero gravity. 

These last few years broke down most of your body and rebuilt it from the base. You’re proud of all the detailed changes you’ve seen in your physique over that time, from your powerful thighs to your lean obliques.

You were used to rigorous discipline, but the cadet training was beyond what you expected. But you proudly persevered.

Although you started out with a higher baseline of athleticism due to the stamina and muscle built from your dancing background, it didn’t take long for the top cadets to catch up with you. 

So you kept pushing yourself.

To be faster and deadlier than them. 

And you were damn fast.

A figure flanks you on your right side and bolts past you. Before you get the chance to draw your weapons, the slicing pitch of blades hits your ears and you watch in dismay as the sculpted piece floats to the ground. 

But not faster than Sasha.

She looks up at you with a cheeky grin and howls in victory.

You narrow your eyes at her but let out a dejected huff of acceptance.

You’ve mentally kept track of the top recruits you knew you had to beat out.

But there were some recruits you knew not to mess with. 

You watch a raven-haired cadet soar past you with inhuman speed, strength, and precision towards her targets.

Drawing your legs into your core, you flip past Sasha and launch your hooks to turn yourself at a sharp angle away from the initial path you were heading. 

You knew better than to compete with Mikasa for those points.

Strategically, you were better off seeking other avenues to boost your score. 

Placement exams were in a few short months, and you were more than ready to prove yourself.

* * *

Your body hits the ground harshly and a dusting of dirt coats your face.

Coughing, you desperately suck in fresh air to replenish your tainted airways.

“Sorry F/N, I didn’t mean to ram into you so hard,” Marco says with diffidence, crouching down and extending a hand to your level.

You frown at your sparring partner.

“I should be sorry for being so useless,” you sigh, accepting his help. 

You still weren’t as strong as you would like. Curse your smaller body. You're convinced you're not meant to build your muscles any larger.

You despised combat training. You felt that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t match or counter half of your female sparring partners, and definitely can’t challenge the strength of the male ones.

Although, you witnessed an even smaller girl named Annie kick both Renier and Eren's ass earlier, so clearly it’s possible.

You dust your clothes off in mild shame as you drag your gaze across the wide battlefield. Not everyone was taking this seriously, but why would they? This portion of the training doesn’t count for anything towards your placement score.

Regardless, it still bothers you that you’re so lacking in this department. So, you’re choosing to take it seriously and have asked your friend to use most, if not all, of his full strength. 

You pick up the decoy imitation knife off the ground and toss it at Marco as you position yourself into your fighting stance.

“Come at me again,” you request, bracing yourself for impact.

Instead, the taller boy eyes your form.

“Where did you learn how to fight?” he asks, sweeping your form. 

Your stance slackens as you open your hands and stare at your rough palms.

“Um, here?” you reply awkwardly, a little unsure why he asked. 

Marco furrows his brows and looks at you curiously.

“I feel like I’ve seen your technique somewhere before?”

You snort into one hand, while your place the other angled on your hips. 

“That surely is not possible. I’m shit at this,” you grin self-deprecatingly, although amused that thought even crossed his mind.

Marco shrugs before he repositions himself to take you on the offensive. 

“Maybe it’s just my imagination,” he muses, before he lunges at you.

You barely dodge his quick, relentless jabs. Enduring a few kicks along the way, Marco eventually wears you down and you tap his shoulders out in mercy. 

“Switch partners! Find someone close to your stature and height,” Shadis roars at the sea of wrestling cadets.

Waving your partner away, you look around and see most folks have already paired up. 

Swiveling your head back and forth, you spot Sasha alone so you hurry towards her.

Just as you were about to reach out to her, another cadet snatches her away. You hear Shadis barking nearby trainees to hurry up and order those who weren’t fast enough to grab a partner to run laps instead.

Frowning, you search your vicinity a little more frantically. They land on an isolated individual’s back, who is just as fanatically seeking a partner.

“Oi, you’re stuck with me, Yeager,” you shout, cupping a hand over your mouth to project your voice above the scuffle around you. 

Eren turns around with surprised eyebrows and instantly makes a beeline towards you, just as Shadis comes into view. 

The ex-commander saunters by you two without a comment, and you both breathe a short sigh of relief at not being reprimanded. 

“You want to charge me first?” Eren asks as he hands you the wooden prop. 

“My pleasure,” you taunt as you flip the knife a few times around your fingers. You were a better striker than a defender.

Not like that says much. 

You face each other with arms raised, knees bent, and shoulders ready to strike. 

You bounce lightly on the soles of your feet, watching Eren with predatory sharpness. His shoulders look rigid with pure strength and although you can’t see it, you know his core muscles are coiled tightly, ready to retaliate. You circle around him slowly and he follows your lead.

You wait for him to slip up.

As the moment of silence drags on, Eren abruptly loosens his stance to complain to you.

“Are you going to come at me or not-” he laments impatiently, but you had already made your move. 

Launching yourself forth with his hesitation, you hold one hand out while the other stays by your side with the attacking item. 

He startles at your sudden movement and aims to grapple you as you near.

You sidestep and sweep his arms away with your outstretched arm as they attempt to encircle you. Pivoting your core to your right, you manage to evade him completely. Just as he uncrosses his arms, you jab the knife onto his back, directly where his left lung sits. 

“I win,” you declare.

“You cheated,” he groans.

“No such thing here,” you toss him the dagger.

Eren’s strong at hand-to-hand combat. There was no way you would be able to defend yourself against him. 

You study his movements as he readies himself. The corners of his almond shaped eyes narrow into smaller slits.

He's not here to fuck around.

Your best shot was to just avoid him altogether. You don’t attempt to block any of his advances, focusing instead on pure avoidance of not being pretend-stabbed.

It seems to work pretty well.

Eren’s eyebrow cross and a frown grows on his face as he visibly gets more and more agitated with each failed attempt.

Suddenly, he propels himself at you too quickly for you to bypass his attack. 

The force of his body slams you into the ground and you wince as your shoulders and both your elbows bash against the earth, sending agonizing pain along your upper body.

Gritting your teeth, you meekly push yourself into a sitting position while Eren stands in his place, towering above your figure. 

“Tch, even if you slack off in the Military Police, you still need to know how to disarm criminals,” Eren says with annoyance, looking down at you with crossed arms.

You look up and meet his judgement with defiance.

“Not that I have to justify anything to you,” you snap back, “but this is literally my best.” 

A high whistle pierces through the air, promptly breaking the conversation.

* * *

Waking up the next morning was brutal. The bruises you sustained yesterday only just started to gather pigment and were more painful to the touch.

Moving your aching body out of bed, you take extra care in slipping on your clean-pressed trainee corps uniform.

As you enter the classroom for your weekly lesson on the military bureaucracy, your feet automatically steer towards your usual seat. There is no official assigned seating in class, but you preferred the predictability of routine in your life.

There was one day where another classmate occupied your spot because you showed up late. You drilled malicious holes into the back of his head, and you’re convinced that’s why he never chose to claim your chair again.

Or maybe it was because Jean kept heckling him the entire time.

Amused eyes follow your usual seat buddy as Jean decides to sit next to another female cadet he’s been chatting up for a while. Who you knew was not interested in him. Baring a wicked grin, you think about how it will still be fun to watch his courtship crash and burn from afar.

You’ve enjoyed watching Jean carry on with his flirtations and poking fun at his overconfidence with Marco. During the few times where he tried to use his charm on you, you made it very clear you weren't interested.

Who really has the time for distractions anyways? 

You would think others would agree with you, but were still surprised to see fellow comrades seek each other out intimately. 

Watching puberty take place during cadet training has made the time go by more interestingly.

Your grin widens as the auburn-haired girl rolls her eyes and physically places her book in between her and Jean. The look of devastation on his face almost makes you cackle.

A shuffling to your right catches your attention.

Looking over, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Marco take Jean’s empty spot. 

“Marco, you’re not going to sit up front?” you question the diligent student.

He shakes his head and settles in.

“I’m already familiar with the lesson plan today,” he says, opening his notebook to his latest page, full with neat, detailed sentences. 

You glance over his book to scan his insight on the latest chapters of reading, and he angles it better for your viewing. Even weeks before your final exams, he’s more than willing to share his knowledge with you. You’ve been sure to return the favor. 

“Besides,” he turns to you, “ I figured out where I’ve seen you before.”

You tilt your head and quirk an eyebrow at his odd statement.

He beckons to speak closer into your ear, as the classroom quickly fills to capacity. 

“You and your troupe visited my village of Jinae years ago,” he whispers excitedly, “Why didn’t you tell me before that you’re a performer?”

Your heart sinks a little at his realization.

“Was a performer,” you emphasize, as you straighten yourself into your usual sitting position.

There was an unspoken rule at the training corps. People don’t prod too deeply about each other’s history without explicit permission.

As more and more time passed, it became easier to lock away that part of your past. How would your performing arts even fit into your future lifestyle with the military? The Police Brigade had deemed it frivolous before, you doubt they would welcome this part of you now. 

Yet, apparently, you can’t fully strip away your foundation. 

You mask your face, so Marco doesn’t pick up on your internal struggle.

Instead, you reach deep into your memories to dig up anything that you remembered about Jinae. A light of recognition fires off in your neurons.

“Does Jinae have a large, stone fountain in the middle of its town square?”

Marco’s eyes gleam at the mention of the prominent landmark of his town and nods keenly.

“You remember us?” he inquires eagerly.

Your lips curl into a soft smile, as you grab at your pencil and place both your elbows on top of your desk

“Of course. You all were kind,” you say leaning into one propped elbow, spinning your pencil in thought, “Not everyone is receptive, so it’s easy to remember the warmth of your hometown.”

You remembered being booed off stages countlessly during your travel with your mother and her crew. Likely because you have had to panhandle to the crowd to make ends sometimes. However, your mother always made sure to recirculate that currency back into their markets.

“You dance beautifully,” Marco says, turning his notebook to a clean new page and dating the top right corner. 

“I hope one day you can grace us with your talents again," the freckled boy wears a sweet smile, knowing to keep this mum.

An ember flickers within you. When was the last time someone appreciated your family’s craft?

“Thank you,” you say genuinely, replicating his expression with your own.

* * *

The rest of the morning flies by and you find yourself on the opening training field once again.

With more sparring.

Your favorite.

Competing curses crowd your head as you sit awkwardly on the ground, clutching a fresh wound covered in dirt and blood along your left tricep right below your rotator cuff.

“F/N! I didn’t mean for you to fall like that," Jean panics as he moves closer to inspect your injuries.

Placing a hand on top of your shoulder, he scrunches his nose at the sight and looks away in guilt.

“Is it really that bad?” you try to joke, wincing in pain. You can’t see the damage but you can feel it ooze down your forearm.

“It’s superficial but it looks like it hurts. Better bandage that up,” he advises, stepping back to offer you a hand which you gladly take.

You sigh as you trudge your way around colliding bodies to reach the make-shift medic station near the front of the field. Swiveling your head back and forth, you notice that the supervising instructors are making their rounds and the medical aid staff isn’t present today. 

Grabbing a handful of cotton balls, you dip them in hydrogen peroxide before bracing yourself as you pat the chemicals onto your open wound. Hissing, you tap them quickly across, soaking up most of the blood along the way.

You then hastily slap a cloth bandage over your wound and wrap two lines of bandages around your arm, one across the top and one along the bottom of the patch. This should stop the bleeding for now. Besides, you’re sure that you’ll heal up easily within a few days. 

As you hurry back onto the training area, a voice hollers for you.

“Come on L/N, let’s go again,” Eren challenges, beckoning you to join him.

You look around searching for other partners, but none seem to be available, so you choose to pay heed. 

“Try to actually counter me this time. Don’t avoid me,” Eren instructs, gripping the fake weapon closer to him as he bends his knees.

"Isn't it your job to strike me? Why would I make that easy for you?”

“It’s your job to fight me.”

"...Only if you catch me.”

Your sly words spark Eren's fighting spirit. 

He crouches into his offensive stance and charges at you while you deflect with your more favorable evasive maneuvers.

As he keeps stepping forward to strike at you, you reflexively step back and concentrate on dodging every approach. You grunt as you push your aching muscles harder in order to keep up with the stronger male. 

Suddenly, Eren swings at you with full force.

You drop yourself down towards the floor to avoid his action. Using your left arm, you push yourself off the ground, jumping backwards to put more distance between you two. 

You hear a light flapping sound and take your eyes off your opponent for a fraction of a second to see your bandage open up, barely sticking to your skin. As you put your vision back on Eren, you realize your distraction was enough for him to create your downfall. 

Eren uses your hesitation to shove you onto your back and grabs both your hands with just his one. You grunt as you hit the chalky terrain once more, pain throbbing from the impact.You then feel him wrap his knees tightly around your ribcage, shortening your breath. You look up just as he touches his prop to your heart.

He grins down at you with triumph in his eyes. 

Frustrated and albeit a little embarrassed, you bare your teeth innocuously and move to shove him off you.

Eren stays put and glances at your exposed wound.

“Did you wrap this?” he asks, curling his nose.

You cease your movements to look at him dully. 

“Yes I did. Why?”

“You did a shit job.”

“You think you can do better?”

Your response was meant to be sarcastic, but Eren doesn’t seem to take it that way. 

The taller male releases your hands and slides himself off to kneel next to you instead. 

“May I?” he asks, pointing to your open bandage.

You look at him suspiciously as you lean your upper body forward. Since when did Eren display any sort of first aid knowledge?

“Sure, why not,” you cave in, craning your head over to look at the damage. It doesn’t look very salvageable.

He fiddles with the hanging bandage before giving up and yanking it clean off instead. You wince at the sharp sting.

“You have to cross-stitch the wound,” Eren explains, as he tears the tape into smaller pieces, and puts two parallel lines intersecting each other. As he finishes wrapping your injury properly, you ignore how warm his touch feels.

Once his fingers leave your arm, you twist it so you can examine his work more closely. It seems pretty clean. 

“Thank you,” you say, a little bashfully.

He did a far better job than the medics here. The good ones are out in the field, not wasting their time with the training corps.

Standing upright, you turn your face towards him, hoping he sees the seriousness of your features. 

“Show me how to properly stop an attack.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as his eyes light up. 

For the next few hours, Eren coaches you on how to fully drive your power into countering attacks and grounding your stances.

“It doesn’t look like you’re taking your opponent seriously when you stand like that,” he disapproves haughtily. 

You bite your tongue at each of his little verbal jabs. 

But you follow his instructions and you’re delightfully surprised to see improvement. Even if it is mild. 

You both continue throwing punches, blocking strikes, and catching kicks, ignoring Shadis’s order to switch partners, until a final whistle cuts through the air, signifying the end of training for the day.

“Good work today,” Eren says with a look of satisfaction, wiping the perspiration along his forehead. You nod, stretching your limbs out and inhaling a deep breath of much-needed air. 

You finally feel like you’re making progress. 

As the rest of the trainees move as a pack off the training grounds and towards the barracks, you walk alongside Eren.

“I’m impressed,” you say to him, “didn’t think you had it in you to demonstrate how to combat humans. Thought your mind would be too focused on titans.”

“No need to set the bar that low,” he mutters, throwing a harmless scowl at you.

“Also, where did you learn how to do this?” you tap at his bandaging, noting that the stubborn patch still sticks after sustaining additional damage.

An unexpected silence follows your question.

“My dad is a doctor,” Eren replies curtly. He notices his friends ahead of the large group and quickly sprints to join them.

The corners of your lips upturn just the tiniest bit as images of Eren as a very clumsy child, prone to injury flash across your head.

* * *

After a taxing day, you just wanted to enjoy your evening meal with peace.

Is that too much to ask?

Of course it is, when you place Eren and Jean in a room together.

They’re fighting about the integrity of the Military Police again. 

“You’re not a soldier, you’re a joke,” Eren sneers at Jean, from across two tables. 

“Come closer and say that to me, Suicidal Maniac,” Jean provokes, rising out of his seat. 

Both teens lunge at each other and throw a few fists along the way. 

How are they not exhausted from all the sparring this week? 

Before either can get deeper into their brawl, Shadis opens the door menacingly and orders you all to pipe down or suffer the consequences.

Intimidated, both boys hastily sit in the closest seats available.

Which happen to be at your table. 

Scowling, you glare at Jean, silently communicating with him to behave. You didn’t want any of their chaos to transfer over into your space. 

“Jealous that F/N, Marco, and I have the brains to understand how valuable it is to live out our lives in Sina?” Jean continues to taunt as he ignores your warning.

You don’t correct Jean about your true intentions of wanting to get into the Police Brigade. He learned of your reasons long ago and just wants to get a rise out of Eren. 

The brunette glowers at him, “I could never be jealous of a Horse Faced coward.”

The pair bicker back and forth and you almost get used to the predictability of their squabbling.

“And you,” Eren speaks out suddenly, shifting his glare towards you.

Your eyes widen as you look around, wondering if he’s speaking to someone else around you.

This is new, why is he dragging you into this today?

Admitting that he’s addressing you directly, you mockingly point to yourself as you chew a piece of tough potato that wasn’t cooked all the way through.

"You're too good to stay inside these walls your entire life. Why are you wasting yourself with the Brigade?" he nearly spits.

Narrowing your eyes in disdain, you hold his fiery gaze.

"I have my own goals, Eren,” you say, taking a sip from your water cup, forcing the chunk past your throat.

“I would appreciate it if you kept your unsolicited comments to yourself," you chillingly reply. 

Your tone indicates that you refuse to engage any further. 

As he averts his gaze, you mull over your fruitless earlier rapport.

Growling, he chooses to aim his fire back at Jean, who gladly catches it to eagerly toy with. 

The rest of the evening involved Armin and Marco calming down the aggressors while you ignore them like your life depended on it.

* * *

Lately, you’ve been dreaming of your mother more and more. Captured as the elegant and powerful enchantress that she was back in your village.

The visuals in your unconscious feel so vivid. So real. You swear you feel her warmth while you sway your bodies in sync, following each other's rhythm and flow. 

You hated waking up from those dreams. 

As you lay painfully awake in your bed, you stare into the nearly pitch-black room, adjusting your eyesight to the darkness.

Exhaling deeply, you stretch both your arms out and grasp at the cold, open air. 

Your desire to feel close to her again burns you. 

Marco’s words echo in your head, serving as encouragement for your next steps. 

Slowly, you ease yourself out of your quilt and place both feet onto the cool floor. Crouching even further, your hands wander in a trance-like state over to your personal bag, under your bed. You pull open the drawstrings of your bag and rummage your hands through towards the false bottom. Opening it, you dig deeper until you feel the wooden frames of twin fans. 

Grabbing them, you wrap their silk trails around each other and slide them into your deep pants pockets. You then reach for your lantern on your desk and swiftly pull on your shoes. 

Careful not to place too much weight onto creaky floorboards, you stealthily slither your way towards the door, ears keen to the heavy breathing and light snoring filling the cabin. 

You discreetly slip yourself past the front door and shut it without making a noise. Craning your ears, you search for any unusual sounds. 

Once you decide the coast is clear, you light your lantern and make your move.

* * *

You pad your way through the dense woods beyond the trainee campus, holding your source of light out to guide you through the dark woods. Although the moon still sat high and bright above you, its rays can’t penetrate through the treetops completely. 

Crickets chirp around you as you squint your eyes, searching for the somewhat familiar path that winds down to the nearby lake. Although training cadets weren’t explicitly prohibited from going down to the waters, strict curfews every night don’t allow you much time to visit frequently. 

You’ve snuck away a few times during your limited free weekends before, so you knew there was a lightly worn trail that winds down towards the shores. 

Stray branches lightly caress your skin, as you wander further along. A few short moments pass before a clearing reveals the sandy banks of the lake. 

Not wanting to trek any sand back into your cabin, you decide to remove your shoes and place them neatly a couple feet into the grass. You sink yourself into the soft sands and kick out a few steps to test the resistance. 

Pulling out a fan in each arm, you stretch your upper limbs as you deeply inhale and slowly exhale. 

Letting each of the fans unravel, you allow the attached scarves to flow down to their full reach of six feet. Its red to gold ombre colors assault the eyes brilliantly, despite the decade of wear that gave way to several tiny holes throughout the fabric.

Although you rarely ever pull your beloved possessions out of their hiding, you’re glad your mother packed them. Even when you were starving and desperate as a refugee in Wall Rose, you refused to sell the remaining precious remnants of your home.

You feel almost silly as you sift through your memories, reliving the thrill of your artistic endeavors. However, you quickly shake those doubts away. It has been years since your last dance, but nothing compares to a near lifetime of training. 

You close your eyes and inhale another slow, deep breath, clearing your restless thoughts, urging a calmness on your soul. 

You try to remember the sounds of a low rumbling of drums, setting a slow, steady pace. 

Lifting your right arm higher and dropping your left, you bend your back as you flick your wrists, creating small, soft waves with the veils.

The memory of a soft choir of voices gently coaxes your arm movements to grow larger and bolder. Easing you into your opening act. 

Lifting your face towards the skies, you bend your left leg as your right one sticks out to draw a half circle in the sand, pretending there are others with you mimicking your grace.

Pushing your full balance onto the left side of your body, you spring yourself onto your right leg and twist your frame, allowing your fans to flow with you as you rhythmically bounce between steps. 

You then bring them behind your back and allow billowing scarves to follow as you leap higher and higher into the air, daring to push your motions to your limits. 

Speckles of sand fly around your legs each time you prance delicately throughout the soft, white, shore.

As you refamiliarize yourself with the motions, any spectator would be spellbound by how your movements create the illusion of flight. 

A serene look overtakes your features as you allow the dance to whisk you away. 

The last few moments of your act comes and your lips curl into a soft smile as the sensation of tranquility flows from your chest to your fingertips. 

Your heart beats rapidly as a rhythmic thunder pounds in your head while you pant for more breath.

The soft curls of the lake lull you even more with its quiet waters. 

Your hands tremble in the slightest way as you ease yourself into your next scene.

Her favorite dance. 

You loved watching your mother perform this act of love. Every time she enacted it for your father, you would idly sit by utterly enraptured. You knew that every motion she made, every minute movement was filled with pure infatuation and devotion.

This particular routine has different iterations and is designed to be specific to each performer and their companion.

You close your eyes and imagine what it would be like to have that kind of undeniable bond with another. 

To be with someone and know that you’ve got each other. 

Creating this makeshift being in your mind, you start moving your body in a more alluring manner.

Imagining they are here to witness it and be seduced by you. 

You snap your fans ahead of you and pretend the scarves are able to caress their body, drawing them closer and closer to wrap themselves into you.

You hum along to an imaginary chorus that speaks to love, peace, cohesion, and a unity of souls. 

As you rotate your torso, you shift your belly in tandem with your forearms as you close your fans, allowing them to sway lethargically from side to side.

Opening them up again, you pick up the pace.

A fury of flaming gold and red hides your body as you pivot off your heel, spinning faster and faster.

Each rotation elongates your sense of bliss.

You wonder what it would be like to carry these carefree and euphoric feelings into your normal, everyday life.

To live life opportunistically and unabashedly with love.

Absent of the fear and crushing weight of fighting for your survival. 

As you close your eyes and lose yourself in your flow, you can almost taste the happiness of that idyllic world.

* * *

Eren thrust his fists towards his target dummy once more. Grunting, he finishes off his routine with a round kick to its concave face. 

Sweat trickle down his thick brow and off onto the ground, littered with earlier splatters. 

He feels content from his efforts of the day.

Shivering, Eren throws on his dark jacket to protect himself from the midnight chill. 

Just as he turns towards the direction of the trainee campus, a figure passes his right.

Surprised, he quickly twists his head to follow you as you walk further away from him.

What is she doing?

He probably should have left you alone. You didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence in any way.

Yet he finds himself tailing you.

He trails behind you quietly as you trek further along your path. 

Several minutes pass by and Eren realizes that at this point, it would be too awkward to alert you of his presence. 

What was he hoping to get out of this? 

He didn’t know how to answer that. He wondered why he continued to track your footsteps, until he witnessed you dropping your fans and showing him their golden-plated, red wings. 

Then, he couldn’t take his eyes off your rhythmic sways and undulating body.

He stood by and felt utterly mesmerized by your message.

You then begin drifting closer towards the waters and out of Eren’s view.

Straining his eyes against the darkness, the young trainee cranes his neck forward and leans on a branch to peer closer.

Only for it to break under his careless weight.

* * *

A loud snap echoed by a rustling of bushes breaks you out of your spell.

Panicking, you instinctively snap your fans shut and hide them behind your back as you whip yourself towards the noise. 

Wide eyes search the empty vicinity. 

“I-I know you’re there, come out! ” you demand, with more confidence than you felt. 

A figure slowly peeks their face out from a cluster of leaves and steps into view. 

The tension rolls off your body as you see a familiar face.

"Yeager?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," Eren stammers.

His gaze traces your figure, from your bare feet to the extension of your fans at the end of your hands.

"You...uh, just look so," he pauses before inhaling a couple of breaths.

You sweep his posture as he moves closer and closer to you.

Guarded eyes meet curious green ones as you wait for his next words.

"Free."

Your body clutches as his words invoke an exhilarating thrill through your heart.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you turn away from him, as he reaches you, to stare at the waters.

You tilt your head to the side as your eyes glaze over, watching the moon's reflection on the lake ripple with every ebb.

"How ironic," you smile dishearteningly, with a trace of bitterness. 

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” He asks with wonder shrouded in his eyes. 

“My family. It’s been passed down for generations,” you disclose.

You move to open and close your fans, letting out soft fluttering sounds and pockets of wind.

“It’s not meant to be done alone though,” you say.

Eren’s eyes shine more vibrantly, eager to hear more. 

The male’s curiosity clearly wasn’t sated.

Sensing a long conversation, you walk towards where you left your shoes. You slip them back onto your cold feet and smoothly ease yourself onto the grass. Looking up at Eren, you pat the space next to you.

He accepts your invitation.

“I've heard a little bit about your village and arts. I didn’t know it would look like that though,” Eren admits, settling into his seat.

Chuckling, your eyes twinkle involuntarily as you think about your people.

“You’re probably more familiar with our reputation as beggars that bounce from town to town.”

In a society where livelihoods are fought for every day, any skill without real functionality was branded as lowly and unworthy of widespread approval. 

“But it always made me so happy. Performing together with my troupe. It didn’t matter if we were far away from our village and in unfamiliar towns. Dancing always made me feel like home,” you squeeze both your fans with reassurance. 

“Even when people jeered at us. We knew that we were exuding hope on stage. Some people don’t dare to imagine anything more,” you pause before continuing, “But we should always aim to keep that faith alive as long as we live.”

“It’s these walls,” Eren cuts in.

He shines his convicted eyes towards the milky skies as he grits his teeth. 

“It makes us feel protected but really, they box us in with our comfort and deepens our fear of the unknown. Placating society with false notions of safety so that people would be unwilling to challenge the status quo.” 

“Yes. Exactly,” you smile as you glance over at Eren’s intent face, “How can someone ask for more if they don’t believe in it?”

“They wouldn’t even dare,” he answers, gazing back at you. 

You chortle as you say, “I fucking sound like a Scout.”

“Because they’re not afraid to dream of possibilities beyond these walls. If I didn’t know you were set on the Brigade, you could have fooled me,” Eren asserts strongly with a smirk. 

You slide your eyes across the male’s maturing features. 

Once again, you feel drawn towards his energy.

You admire that as shameless as Eren is about his grandiose goals of slaying titans, at least he carries his mission with proven authenticity over the years.

“What are you even doing out this late? Sneaking around?” you ask him with a hint of suspicion.

“I spend most of my nights conditioning. I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake.”

“Really?” you ask incredulously. “Is that how you’re so good at sparring?”

“What do you think?” he asks rhetorically, with a hint of pride reflected off his tight grin. 

You scoff at his arrogance lightly but a thought crosses your mind. 

“I never thanked you for helping me earlier.”

“What’s there to thank? We’re comrades,” he responds easily. “Even if we end up in different branches.”

You can’t help but snicker at how Eren’s bias still slips in.

“Do you come out here often?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“This is my first time in years. I didn’t realize how much I missed this until tonight,” you admit honestly, setting your fans on the ground.

You notice Eren eyeing them, so you offer them to him to examine.

“Go ahead, you can play with them.”

He takes them gingerly and eyes the intricate spiral designs that decorate the frames. 

“These are beautiful,” he says as he opens one and waves it amateurously, watching the veils flap around.

“They’re specially designed by a remarkable craftsman who has been supplying my family for decades,” you say remembering the man fondly. 

Eren flutters the fans again, experimenting with different rippling in the tails.

"Your last dance was amazing. Can I see it again?"

You smile lightly as you meet his bright green eyes with your knowing ones.

"That routine you watched was created to be displayed for a partner - a lover," you explain with an impish tint in your grin.

He falters his movements and squeezes his mouth into a tight circle of understanding. Closing both instruments, he gently returns them to your possession

"I watched my mother perform it countless times for my father before he passed. Following her dance helps me miss her a little less," you admit.

Thinking about them was bittersweet. Your father lost a slow battle against his disease a couple years before the fall of Maria. Maybe he’s lucky to have lived his life in peace before the breach of titans. The memory of his faint smiles and mingled laughter with your mother as she performed privately for him still lives fresh in your mind. 

"Is she still with you?" Eren asks hesitantly, likely already knowing the answer. You shake your head to confirm his suspicions.

“I know I’m going to be a soldier in a few months, and I’m practically an adult, but I can’t help but still wish she was here,” you lace your fingers together and squeeze them tightly.

“That’s normal,” Eren says.

He pauses before adding, “I’m sure she would be happy knowing you aren’t risking your life on the frontlines.”

You wonder if he included that last part purely for your benefit.

“You know,” you drawl out, “I don't want to be a Military Police Officer just because I seek the safety within the walls.”

A look of surprise crosses Eren’s features.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning one of your elbows on a bent knee.

“Their entire branch is riddled with corruption and I refuse to let them exist the way they are. It’s disgusting how much discretion they have over civilian lives with minimal oversight. They decide which resources go where without any input from citizens, and are designed to keep the rich cushioned inside Sina.”

Your expression then hardens, “It sounds impossible to change, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life fighting against it.”

As you retell the denial of your entry into Wall Sina that subsequently lead to your mother’s death, Eren’s face grimaces as he hangs onto every word. 

A moment of silence endures.

“I didn’t know,” Eren says quietly.

Guilt then transpires on his face, likely from all the assumptions he's made about you these last few years. 

“You never asked,” you shrug off.

“I turned down an opportunity to move into Sina after she passed. It just doesn’t feel right after everything that happened. I couldn’t live with myself if I pretended that injustice doesn’t exist within our walls,” you recount, anger seeping into your voice. 

Eren observes you tightening your fists and your face scowl deeply, as you relive those days. 

“I understand your aspirations for wanting to conquer the terror beyond these walls. But I can’t ignore the horror that happens here,” you conclude.

A gentle whistle of the wind weaves itself into your hair, dislodging a few stands out of place. 

You tuck the pieces back under your ear as you inhale deeply. 

“I just want to make it on my own. We’re all fighting for ourselves out here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t live my life seeking the peace I believe in.”

Crossing both your arms over your legs, you hug them tightly while you sit under a small storm of fury. 

“You shouldn’t ever be ashamed to fight for your beliefs,” Eren affirms with a low rumble. 

You glance up to observe his face taut with an expression that nearly matches your own. 

Although you two haven’t shared a close bond, his validation still makes you feel warm and comforted. 

As the boil of rage subsides, you suddenly feel shy about how much you shared tonight.

Eren senses your reservation.

“You can do it.” Eren’s words are prompted with such sincerity in his voice and tenacity, it compels you to believe him. 

Humming in light agreement, you close your eyes as another gust lightly passes through you, allowing it to clear your senses.

“I saw her get eaten.”

Opening your eyes, you sweep them towards Eren’s hunched over figure, as he stares intently on a small stone in between his outstretched legs.

You heard the rumors. Eren never confirmed them so you disregarded them each time they came around, as they got more and more far-fetched with every return.

“She was trapped under our house and couldn’t escape a titan. We have a family friend who saved me and Mikasa from there, but I was so angry at him for leaving Mom. I couldn’t understand at the time why we couldn’t try harder to bring her with us.”

Eren places both his palms onto the crisp blades of grass and squeezes harshly.

“But I realized we had to leave her because I’m weak. I never want to feel that way again. I joined the military to build my strength so that the next time I’m faced with a titan,” he plucks a handful of grass and grips it tightly against his chest, “I won’t hesitate to kill it.”

“Seeing my town destroyed. Having my own mother taken away from me by those ugly, disgusting beasts. No one should ever feel the fear that I felt,” he clenches his teeth angrily. 

His passionate words ignite you, drawing shivers along your skin.

As you absorb his story thoughtfully, you lean both your arms back and use them to incline yourself comfortably.

“You better eliminate all those titans then. Otherwise, you’ll look like a damn fool.”

Eren sighs deeply as he releases the fragments of grass and emulates his posture with yours. 

“I will. You’ll see.”

Twisting your head just slightly more in his direction, you watch his eyes dance with fire and intention sinks deeper into his eyebrows. His indignation against titans vibrates off his being. 

It’s a good look on him. 

You and Eren sit and watch the moon sink just a little bit further with each passing moment. The air has gotten chillier, and the two of you instinctively inch closer together to preserve body warmth.

You both knew you had to return to base camp soon. 

But neither make a move to leave. 

"Sorry again for intruding. You should have been able to perform that for someone special," Eren says breaking the silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

You glance over at Eren to examine him.

He appears more relaxed.

His chestnut strands wave back and forth with the breeze and frame his sharp facial structures. The rays from the moonlight trace the outline of his built body and bounce off his smooth skin, creating an alluring aura. 

"It's alright,” you respond gently.

Truth be told, you enjoyed your late hours together. 

It felt good sharing your history with someone who understands a piece of what this journey of healing entails. Your paths may not end up being the same, but it’s clear that you and the other being next to you have the same intentions. 

You both yearned for this world to change. 

“I don’t mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	4. Omelette Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Omelet vs. Omelette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Attack on Titan.

The morning call rings loudly and you barely push through your mind’s fogginess to force yourself awake.

You’re exhausted.

Part of you craves the comfort of your sheets and the leniency to forgo all your responsibilities of the day.

As you fumble for your uniform, you carelessly swipe for your notebook that you left on the nightstand. Your late nights are catching up to you. You’ve been reading and rereading your books, under the anticipation that the written exam would be a far bigger challenge than your physical exams. 

Better safe than sorry that you didn't study enough. 

Munching through your breakfast with half-lidded eyes, you slog your way over to the classroom hosting your Titan and Tactic studies.

You slide into your usual seat near the back as the room buzzes alive with the chorus of your classmates’ greetings.

Propping an elbow on your desk, you close your eyes and rest on the palm of your hand. 

As your grogginess slowly ebbs away, you mull over the questions you highlighted in your notes that you wanted to review with Jean. You’ll probably end up clarifying them with Marco later but Jean isn’t so much of an idiot that you can’t at least process your initial thoughts with him.

You hear the chair next to yours drag across the floorboard and you pipe up to your partner.

“Jean, I hope you did the reading, because - ” you stop speaking when you see Eren ungraciously drop himself in the seat next to you.

You quirk an eyebrow at him and blink a few times.

“What, does Kirstein own this seat?” he lightly bites at your confusion.

You shake your head and try not to let your surprise show. Since your late night encounter with Eren, he’s been friendlier with you these last few weeks. 

You don’t mind his presence. Although, you’re sure that Jean would.

Speaking of which, the long-faced cadet walks in through the door yawning and rubbing his eyes.

He stops in front of his usual spot and rubs his eyes once more for good measure. 

“Yeager, stop messing around and get out of my seat.”

Eren stays put and exaggerates his action of stretching out and relaxing in his chair.

“Since when did this become ‘your’ seat,” Eren responds, using his fingers as air quotes. 

“I’ve been sitting here all year. Move,” Jean demands, raising his voice.

“I didn’t realize we can now own property simply by putting our own asses on them,” Eren quips.

Jean seethes and responds, “Listen, I’m not looking to fight with you so early in the morning.”

“There’s plenty of other seats available,” Eren retorts, sweeping his arm towards the front of the room. His usual seat next to Mikasa has long since been filled, so Jean really didn't have many other options.

Jean turns an exasperated face at you, imploring you to save him from his fate.

“I don’t save seats Jean. Wake yourself up earlier next time,” you say, waving his attention away, indicating your disinterest in bailing him out. 

Jean grumbles at you and glares at Eren one last time before sulking to the head of the room. He sits next to Marco who appears delighted his friend is joining him, even if it is against his will.

Eren smirks at you, interpreting your neutrality as his victory. You roll your eyes and let him take his win.

The next few hours fly by and you quickly jot down important notes along the way. Following along this course comes without any real extra effort for you. Maybe since you can clearly envision titans, it’s easier to conceptualize how to kill them should you have to. Ever since the breach, there has been a heavier emphasis on learning multiple strategies on how to slow, blind, distract, avoid, and when to kill titans. 

You feel more confident in your knowledge of these tactics and hope it works in your favor since it is a large portion of your written exam.

It’s the battle formations that are a little more difficult for you to grasp. You don’t understand why so much of the curriculum is on how to fight titans outside the walls, when only a small portion of your class will end up taking part in expeditions. Even though you’ve been putting in extra hours to study diligently with Marco, for some reason, you just can't wrap your head around some of this week’s concepts. 

Finally, your lecturer begins reviewing the reading that you struggled with.

You sit more upright in your seat and lean forward, eagerly taking in his explanation. 

“The birdview formation is better for avoiding aboriginal titans. It allows you to split into different directions easily once you spot them,” he states, circling the “x” markings on the chalkboard and drawing arrows away from the titan figure.

Most of your classmates are completely zoned out and nod along passively. Since the vast majority of cadets end up in the Garrison, there’s no real motivation for them to learn about the nature of titans. They definitely don’t need to retain how to survive as a pack outside the walls.

As your instructor continues droning on, you listen closely and tap your pencil impatiently against your notebook. It still didn’t make sense to you. Your book called that the diamond formation. It also had scouts placed in different positions than what is marked on the board. Why is this so different from your reading? 

You compare your notes with what your instructor just said and you grit your teeth in frustration when you can’t reconcile the differences.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip tightens and your fingers swing your instrument with more force, moving more and more rapidly.

You know you should just ask the expert in the room but you feel ashamed that you’re completely off base here.

Eren gets fed up with the tapping and reaches over to grab the eraser end tightly. He then pulls it closer to him, and you gasp as your hand and upper body follow.

“Just ask me the question that’s obviously on your mind,” he whispers in annoyance once your face draws closer to his.

Your cheeks flush lightly at the proximity. 

As you look around, you notice that a couple nearby cadets are annoyed with the disruptive noises you are making. Your flush deepens in embarrassment and you stutter a small apology.

Quickly, you explain your confusion about both the soldier placements and purposes behind these formations.

Eren ends up repeating what the instructor stated earlier.

“F/N, you’re just confusing the two,” he concludes.

You vaguely recognize how easily your first name slips off his tongue. 

“But that’s not what the reading states,” you insist, leaning back into your chair and giving an exasperated sigh.

“Go check the text then,” Eren challenges, annoyed that you don’t believe him.

You scowl before you reach to pry your book open, rummaging through the highlighted pages. You skim your fingers through the concepts and find the section you’re looking for.

You turn the page and you’re about to smugly point out your evidence to your new acquaintance, when you realize something.

The page numbers up in the right hand corner don’t align.

You look bewildered as you quickly lick the tips of your thumb and forefinger and use the traction to push the pages together.

They stubbornly come apart revealing two additional, clean sheets of reading. 

Your eyes then skim through the exact same words that Eren and your instructor have echoed. 

Eren’s triumphant snickering fills your ears as you groan and lower your head onto your book in shame.

“Told you,” he states with an air of conceit.

You turn and narrow your eyes up at Eren, invoking instant suspicion from the male. 

“You’re not as dumb as you look Eren.”

He glares at your statement.

“And you’re not a great judge of character,” he humors right back.

He flicks a few loose silky strands of hair out of his eyes with his pen. He gazes at you a little longer before returning his full attention to the front of the room.

* * *

You sometimes regret showing your kindness to Sasha since your first night.

She’s been bugging you ever since.

Like now.

As soon as you sit down, she seeks you out to throw her puppy dog eyes and salivating lips your way. 

“Legend has it that there was once a man who suffered from an insatiable hunger. He was even suspected of visiting morgues to feed himself,” you say, stirring your spoon around your bowl.

You tilt your head and toss a light glare at the cadet to your right.

“Were they really talking about you, Sasha?” you ask plainly.

She wears a goofy grin with a thin sliver of drool peeking out of the corners of her mouth.

You break your bread in half and toss her the other piece.

“Thank you F/N,” she says gratefully.

“Teach me how to be faster with the gear and I’ll give you the entire piece next time,” you say, leaning on one of your elbows. 

“Deal,” she says immediately.

“Tch. Why would you help her when our exams are so close,” Jean laments from your left. Sasha looks between him and the remaining bread in her hands in horror for even asking such a question.

“Don’t worry Jean, I’m not going to take away your spot,” you tease, patting him on his shoulder in a facetious manner.

“I know,” he huffs presumptuously. 

“As selfish as ever, Horseface,” an unexpected voice interjects.

Turning your head towards the source, you watch Eren slide his tray across the table from you.

“No one asked you shithead. Beside, why are you even -,” Jean trails off once Mikasa takes a seat across from him. 

You stifle a laughter as you nod a greeting towards her and Armin, who trailed slightly behind. 

“Anyways, it’s pretty clear who the top cadets are here. I doubt much will change these next weeks. If you haven’t proven yourself by now, it’s already too late,” Jean states haughtily. 

“Jean you shouldn’t talk down on our comrades like that,” Marco lightly scorns, from his left. 

“That’s easy for you to say, when you know you’re among the most competent here. Just imagine Marco,” he says as he throws one arm around his best companion and one arm around you, “ You, me, and F/N working as prestigious officers in Sina. You two better not slack off and leave me alone over there living it up.”

His grip around you both tighten, and you cough a few times as your airways get choked out. You drive a few fingers into Jean’s ribs and he yelps as he lets go. 

“In your dreams,” you say rubbing your neck. 

“How superficial. To only think about yourself and your ranking instead of the overall goals of the military,” Eren scowls as he shakes his head. 

You feel Jean bristle next to you and you rack your brain quickly to mollify the hot-headed cadets. 

“You’re probably not even thinking about making the ranks, right Eren?,” you ask the fiery brunette. 

He shifts his face away from Jean towards you.

“I’ll still need to be in my best condition once I leave these wretched walls,” he responds. Looking down, he tightens his grip on his spoon as he continues, “Those titans-”

“Yes, yes, you need to be as strong as possible to take down every last titan. We all memorized your manifesto,” you chuckle playfully.

“Oh, is that what it is now?” he raises an eyebrow, with a quirk in his lips. 

“I didn’t say it was bad,” you counter with a glint in your eye. Jean snorts loudly.

Eren ignores the pretentious teen and instead widens his smirk. As he fishes for more of his meal, he eyes your half-eaten bowl in between bites.

“Do you always leave so much left?” small signs of concern etched in Eren’s tone.

“Why do you think Sasha sticks so closely to her?” Jean points an accusational thumb to the perpetually hungry girl.

You twist towards her. Jutting your bottom lip and crossing your eyebrows together in a false look of hurt, you ask, “Is that all I’m good for Sasha?”

Sasha frantically denies your claims and insists that your friendship is pure and is not conditional on you rationing her additional carbs.

The more she cries in defense, the deeper Eren scowls.

“Hurry up and finish your food before she hounds you even further,” he says, reaching across the table and pushing your tray closer to your body and away from Sasha’s prying eyes. 

Grinning at the gesture, you muster up an additional appetite to finish your dinner. You mutter your forgiveness to your friend in between bites, but don’t miss her fanatically staring at your bowl throughout your entire interaction.

From the corner of your eye, you sense Jean looking at you with a mischievous glint in his face.

“What?” you ask flatly.

“You’re nicer to him. What happened?”

“Was I rude before?”

“No. But you two feel different,” he says wagging a finger between you and Eren.

Eren’s face flushes as he denies the statement while you stare at Jean, unsure how to reply.

“Did he convert you into his titan suicide mission?” Jean jeers, elbowing your side in accusation.

“All I said is I understand where Eren is coming from, how did you jump to that conclusion? You know I’m dead set on the Police Brigade,” you emphasize.

“At least F/N has legitimate intentions for joining the Military Police, unlike your cowardly self,” Eren snidely replies.

“How is me wanting safety for myself and my family not legitimate?” Jean scorns.

“Not everyone wants to welcome death the same way you do Yeager. But please, go and be my guest,” the glaring amber-eyed teen continues, mockingly waving his right hand as a go signal.

Everyone at the table collectively sighs.

“That’s it, we’re not staying here anymore. Eren, you and Jean clearly can’t handle each other, let’s go,” Armin says, picking up both their trays and moving towards a recently emptied table.

“Why did you even sit here,” Mikasa mutters, before sliding her unreadable gaze towards you, and dragging Eren away. 

“He’s a suicidal maniac,” Jean exasperates once Eren’s little group leaves. 

“He truly is,” you mumble with a poorly concealed smile.

* * *

The first time you stepped foot into Trost district with the training corps, you felt small and almost claustrophobic.

The district’s buildings are tall, multi-leveled, and clustered, while their alleyways are winding and connect with long, paved streets. While the other cadets around you marveled at the architecture in wonder, you couldn’t help but feel more trapped the further you ventured into the city. 

Coming from a tiny village, you were used to the smaller, single unit homes that share the open air and overlook the large, surrounding meadows. 

Though you have visited the inner cities before and lived among Wall Maria’s refugees in a similar district, Trost still feels intimidating. 

As you walk through the district now, you stick closely by your cadets-in-arms, worried that if you stray even just the tiniest bit you’ll find yourself lost.

“Are we almost there yet?” Connie moans.

“We should be reaching the base in half an hour,” Marco answers, double-checking his map.

“Tch, leave it to Shadis to squeeze in more practice drills, milking us while we’re still here,” Jean says from your left, crossing his arms.

With the end of your training corps nearing, the ex-Commander requested all the trainees partake in one last set of practice and evacuation drill before you all scatter to your selected branches. 

“Oi, take this seriously. If titans invade again, we can’t be unprepared, ” Eren says ahead of you with a scowl.

Jean rolls his eyes and puffs his chest out to prepare a retort.

You cut him off by asking, “Jean, since this is your hometown, can you take us to your favorite spots? I heard the food here is amazing. We actually have a few hours free in our schedule this time.”

“Oh! Take me with you please!” Sasha sings, turning around to ensnare you with her large, light brown eyes that glow with the promise of delicious local cuisine. 

The two-toned brunette nods in affirmation and Sasha practically bounces in glee. 

“Is your house nearby? Thomas got permission to visit his family here in Trost,” Marco asks.

“I’m sure your mom would be so happy to see you, ” Armin pipes up alongside him.

Jean’s mood changes as he retorts, “ None of your business! I’m not visiting that hag.”

You and Marco exchange a look of confusion, but otherwise leave the boy be. 

Finally, you reach the Garrison Base at Trost Headquarters, filled with multiple squads that maintain the security of the walls. After setting down your belongings, you follow the growing crowd in the courtyard.

For your drills together, the cadets are split into squads of three and stationed throughout the city to prepare for the titan attack scenarios.

“Ackerman, L/N, and Yeager. Assigned to Quadrant 1, Section B.”

You peer over to the pair who wave you over and walk over to them. A team captain leads you to your designated area and explains the practice drill. Once “titans” appear, you are tasked to sweep down the street to strike down any and all additional ones. 

Seems rather straightforward. 

However, the longer you wait for the order, the more your mind starts criticizing this layout. 

Frankly, you’re confused why you’re stationed in this format, so far away from both the outer and inner gate. The other teams of cadets were ordered to stay in their lanes, five rows ahead of you, with all teams essentially creating a fabric throughout the city. 

It’s part of your mock defense drill, but in theory, if titans breached the district, wouldn’t they move more unpredictability and potentially in hordes? They would also end up pulling more teams towards certain areas, thus destroying the uniformity of this layout. 

You watch as other soldiers fly through their sections destroying the cluster of imitation napes in other lanes, making the kills look nearly standardized.

It almost appears too neat. 

You brush the thoughts away as you wait patiently for your team’s turn to strike any “titans” that cross into your designated post.

You stand still on top of a high rooftop that overlooks more of the ground. Mikasa is stationed on an opposite complex across the street, while Eren paces anxiously beside her. 

“Tch, this is taking forever,” Eren says, with his hands over his blades, ready to draw them at any point.

“Relax, I’m sure the order will come soon,” you say, annoyed by his agitation. His pacing is making you dizzy.

You turn your eyes down towards the streets, observing the residents instead.

As you stand on top of their rooftops, you can’t help but come to admire their daily lives. You watch them exchange conversation at the fruit stands and seek out trinkets at the markets. Children wear little backpacks that bob up and down excitedly as they hurry back to their homes to relay their day to their families.

It’s comforting to see the town folks minding their own business, paying no need to the titans that scratch at the walls outside the gate. 

A family that lives in the building that Eren and Mikasa are standing on top of opens their large window to assess what the ruckus is.

An older man sticks his upper body out of the open structure and twists his neck up to glare disapprovingly at Eren’s near stomping. His disapproval intensifies after noticing the soldier’s crest on the back of his jacket. Eren notices his displeasure and compromises by tapping his foot against the roof tiles instead. The man grumbles in response. 

Another squad flies by over your heads, intersecting your paths. Your bored eyes follow their course and your limbs itch to follow.

A gasp comes from the same window across the street, as a young child no older than nine, pops her head up and peers at the swinging soldiers with wonder and delight.

“So noisy,” the older man grunts as he returns to the frame. He then reaches for both panels and shuts them forcefully with a loud, echoing slam.

That doesn’t stop his daughter from pressing her round, little face closer to the view, fogging up the glass with her eager breath.

Her wondrous, dark brown eyes catch yours and she waves at you enthusiastically. Smiling, you wave back mildly, trying to keep your professionalism in check.

Seeing your interaction, her father snatches her arms and scorns her which makes you frown.

Two long, high pitched whistle pitches sound in your vicinity and your ears and muscles perk up.

“Finally,” Eren grumbles as he hastily launches his gear.

“Wait! Eren!” Mikasa shouts as he eagerly pulls himself away.

She jumps up and dispels her hooks before addressing you.

“F/N, let’s go,” Mikasa says, following Eren who is already a few buildings ahead.

You barely process how quick he was to leave you two behind without even discussing a strategy. 

The young child watches Mikasa mesmerized as she expertly propels herself forward and out of view. 

When you catch the girl’s eye again, you wink at her as you start sprinting towards the edge of the roof. As you leap off the ledge, you launch your hooks and hit the gas, swinging yourself high into the air. 

The sudden burst of air brushes against your cheeks harshly. Your lips stretch into a grin as you use your momentum to purposefully make a show of enacting elaborate flips before you reel away. 

You know her father would disapprove of your display. However, you hoped the young mind wouldn’t stop her fascination of what could be possible in this world. 

Releasing more gas, you push yourself to catch up with your mates. Within seconds, you’re in speaking distance of Mikasa.

“Is he always like that?” you ask her, peeved at Eren’s rashness. 

“Essentially,” she confirms, with the slightest drain in her voice.

“And you usually chase him?”

Mikasa nods, her eyes fixed ahead.

“Seems exhausting,” you comment offhandedly.

* * *

“F/N, you stole my kill!”

“You’re in the wrong lane buddy,” you smoothly reply, enjoying your body’s release of endorphins as you pull your momentum forward.

You hear Eren snicker from a distance.

What is Jean’s group even doing in your quadrant? You watch Armin and Annie trail behind Jean and know that they are likely just following his orders. 

“Also, you didn’t say anything to Mikasa,” you tease out of her earshot which makes Jean sputter an excuse through his blush. 

You watch as his team flies away, refocusing your eyes on your next targets.

Two more spotted to your left.

Mikasa is already on the way towards the one closest to her.

“F/N, I got this one,” she conveys, quickly gaining speed on her objective. 

“Great, I’ll get the other,” you reply. 

Flipping yourself twice in the air, you use the extra movement to hurl towards the second target, cleanly slicing off a deep sliver. 

You’ve felt more bold with displaying your ODM skills in these tight city spaces since your previous visits. Might as well give your proctors extra confidence in your abilities. Part of you feels guilty for the lasting damages left on the buildings after you retract your tethers, but that's an inconsequential price to pay for the safety of this district. 

“Such a show off, F/N!” Reiner shouts from several houses down.

“Nothing’s stopping you from doing the same,” you respond as you cup your mouth and shout back.

“Nah, I’ll leave that to you,” he says, playfully waving one of his hands. 

“Okay, Reiner,” you say with a smirk, before you quickly zip away. 

You land on the ground with the rest of your group next to the proctor, who stops her watch.

“8 mins and 40 seconds to clear the area. That’s nearly a record. Excellent work,” she praises. Satisfaction swells in your chest as she happily scribbles into her clipboard.

“Great job Mikasa,” you say, nudging an elbow towards her. 

“You too, F/N,” she almost sheepishly responds back. 

“Oi, I don’t get praise? I executed my part well,” Eren states, leering an eye at you. 

“Did you? I didn’t notice over my actual teamwork with Mikasa,” you reply sarcastically. You were a little annoyed that he didn’t demonstrate as much collaboration as you would have liked. There’s nothing inherently wrong with scouting ahead, but it’s safer to stick together and execute team kills. 

“You did great Eren, you’ve shown serious improvement lately,” Mikasa says, “ But you need to trust your team next time.” He scoffs in response and crosses his arms, looking away. 

“That’s all for the drills today. For the rest of the evening, you can help move the supplies that arrived from the interior this morning, ” the Garrison soldier says, leading the walk back to headquarters.

Once you’re near the entrance, you reach a large wagon, filled to the brim with crates of varying sizes.

“The labels are on the side, sort them into the smaller wagons here so they can be easily transported to our other sites,” she orders.

“Yes ma’am!”

You move towards the large pile and tilt each of the different crates back to test their weight.

Oof. You can barely budge the largest ones.

“I claim all the smaller crates,” you declare without shame. 

“What, you’re not interested in pushing yourself today?” Eren says, looking at you with judgement in his eyes.

“I know what my limits are,” you brush his jeering aside. No point in straining yourself towards the end of your training. That’s what the last three years are for. 

The petty part of you hopes that his arrogance will come around to bite him later.

The labor of transferring the crates to their assigned spots takes more than an hour.

Once you’re done unloading your portion, you decide to lean against one of the wagons and watch Eren as he gets more and more tired. Without offering to help. 

He visibly struggles to grip his last box and you can’t stop the little smirk that plays on your lips as you watch the juxtaposition between him and Mikasa carrying triple the amount in the background.

She sets her stack down and walks over to grab the crate that Eren is struggling with.

“Hey, stop that! I got it,” he exclaims as he roughly shoves her help away. 

His resistance barely fazes her and she attempts again to support him.

You roll your eyes as the two fight and you briefly wonder what it would be like to argue so closely with a sibling. Must be nice knowing that at the end of the day, they’ll still have your back.

You feel a tap on your shoulder just as someone clears their throat.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice speaks up. Her presence interrupts the step-sibling’s conflict.

You turn around to face the newcomer and see a middle-aged woman, holding a large basket in one arm. 

“Are you with the training corps?” she asks keenly.

Eren and Mikasa both turn towards her and the three of you nod.

“Is Little Jean….I mean, Jean Kirschtein with you?”

Your eyes widen at the familiar name. Straightening your posture, you examine her face and piece a few assumptions together.

“Yes!” you chirp but then falter. “Well, no. Not right now, but he’s our friend,” you clarify.

“He’s not my friend,” Eren mutters from behind you.

You throw a threatening glare at him, indicating that he should behave. Mikasa elbows him harshly and he yelps at the impact.

“I’m his mother. Do you think there is any way you can take me to him?” the sweet woman asks.

“Of course. We’re about to have dinner so he’ll be there,” Mikasa answers. She walks ahead towards the dining hall and beckons for you all to follow.

Eren falls in line with her step and you trail behind to accompany Jean’s mother.

“I’m F/N by the way. I’m actually good friends with your son,” you say with a warm smile.

“Oh?” she exclaims, looking you up and down, “You’re gorgeous! Jean is lucky to have you by his side.”

She places both your hands into hers and says, “Please take care of my baby. He may not show his love in the nicest way, but I promise he’s a sweet boy.”

Eren whips his head around with an appalled expression as he blurts out, “F/N, are you dating Jean?!”

You blush as you gently pry your hands away from her strong ones and feverishly respond, “I’m not, apologies for the confusion. We really are just good friends. It’s just nice to meet the woman who raised such a strong and confident person.”

Jean’s mother beams at the compliment.

“Then don’t give off that impression,” Eren mumbles as he turns himself back towards front. He ignores Mikasa’s hushed warning to be kind and respectful to your guest.

You eye the older woman's basket and notice the tension in her shoulder.

“Would you like me to help you carry that?” you ask politely, but she waves your offer away.

“I’m fine, child. I spent all day picking these, and I’m hoping Jean can share them with his friends. Would you like one now?” She lifts the white cloth off to reveal beautiful, perfect red apples.

Although your mouth waters at the sight of the juicy fruit, you shake your head.

“I’ll take one once everyone else can have their pick too,” you say.

The four of you soon reach the mess hall, and Mikasa seeks a Garrison officer to grant an extra permission of entry. His mother’s enthusiasm glows on her face once she is allowed to visit.

However, you were less than impressed with Jean’s reaction.

As he roughly pushes her warmth and worried words away, she decides to just leave the apples on the table.

“Little Jean,” she says with hurt etched on her face. She turns to address the tense crowd as she pulls the cloth off her basket, “he’s a little rough around the edges but please be kind to him.

“These are for everyone. Take them as you please,” she offers, taking several apples out of the basket and laying them out gently to prevent bruising.

The teen, embarrassed by the public affection, angrily sweeps her careful efforts off the table.

You open your mouth and knit your eyebrows, stunned at your friend’s hurtful actions.

“Jean!” Eren exclaims as his eyes widen at the precious, bouncing fruit. 

He drops to his knees and you quickly follow, scrambling to retrieve them before they roll away too far away on the dirty floor. 

You transfer your share of the apples into Eren’s arms, and watch as Jean practically forces his mother out of the mess hall and slams the door in her face.

“Oi. You should be nicer to your mom, Little Jean,” Eren says. You throw Eren a dirty look for trying to escalate the situation and roughly slap his shoulder with the back of your hand. 

He looks at you before correcting himself, “I mean Jean.”

Jean storms away as the mood of the hall turns on him. Although, you don’t feel very sorry for your friend you make a mental note to check up on him. You figured the pressure of the exams is getting to him.

Truth be told, it's getting to all of you.

* * *

You’re not entirely sure what went down between Sasha and Jean.

It was strange, seeing your two friends argue these last few days.

However, before you on the large platform sat two plates before the Garrison’s Southern Territory Commander Dot Pixis. 

Who is apparently serving as the grand judge of a cook off challenge. Is everything in the military so competitive?

You hear Sasha proudly present her dish: a slice of glistening, boar steak, seared to perfection. A definite crowd pleaser, as you all look at her plate in awe, silently wishing you could somehow have a taste too. 

Pixis takes one bite slowly, before quickly completely devouring the meal. The older, bald man then stares into the sky for several moments, clearly overwhelmed by its flavors. Connie and Reiner, who served as kitchen aid for Sasha’s team, high-five each other as they are ready to bask in victory.

When it became Jean’s turn, he lifted his cover off to reveal a circular mound of omelette, sitting perfectly centered on the plate.

Confused but intrigued, you and everyone else wonder why Jean decided to go with a simpler dish.

Armin and Annie stand back with anxious looks on their faces, as they don’t even seem that sure of their team’s choice.

The expression of confidence on Sasha is a stark contrast to the look of modesty on Jean. 

Pixis takes his fork and breaks off a small piece of the omelette to examine it. Then, he takes a bite delicately. Then another bite. Silently, he feasts on the meal in a steadfast manner until all traces are gone. Taking his red dinner napkin, he dabs the corners of his mouth and sighs in content.

Rising, he stands to address the anticipating audience. 

The tension between the two teams on stage is palpable, as Commander Pixis takes his time deciding the victor.

You cross your arms and turn your ear, waiting to hear his judgement. 

“The winner,” Pixis states, as everyone leans in eagerly, “is Jean’s omelette.”

The crowd explodes at the verdict. It feels spectacular that anything can beat the rarity of a meat delicacy.

Even from where you stand, you can hear Sasha blatantly advocate at the Commander for meat while loud tears flow down her face. After Pixis walks away after sharing words you can not make out, Jean bends down to offer the distraught girl a hand, which she takes. The two cadets shake hands, and you hope that means your group can enjoy peace again. 

As you push yourself through the crowd, you pull yourself onto the front of the stage with both your hands, swinging your legs onto the platform.

Standing up, you brush the dirt off your hands as you grin and wish congratulations to Jean.

“Why an omelette?” you ask, curious about the motivation behind his deceitfully simple dish.

He turns to you with a bright smile gracing his lips.

“It’s what my mom always made me growing up,” he answers, with an extraordinary shine to his eyes.

“That’s amazing!” you exclaim. You pause before inflecting suggestions in your next words, “She would be proud of you honoring her tonight.”

“Thanks F/N,” Jean says with a cheeky grin. He pauses in thought before saying, “I’m going to go see my mom tomorrow.”

“You should,” you smile, relieved he took the hint.

He nods eagerly and turns to flash you a large smile. 

Then, you watch gleefulness spread across his features. 

Shining glimmers in his bright, amber eyes. 

You're struck by the fact that you haven’t seen Jean this happy before. 

His expression churns your stomach uncomfortably and a sense of heaviness overcomes you.

Guilt then follows, weaving itself way in, admonishing you for not feeling privileged to partake in Jean’s happiness. You try to shove the unwanted feelings down, as you watch him be enveloped by more and more cadets and soldiers overtaking the stage. 

The joy suddenly feels suffocating and you want different air.

Hesitating, you consider sticking around but as the crowd ebbs towards you, you pivot your heel and begin moving against the flow. 

You move swiftly through a chattering mix of veteran soldiers and trainees, who are utterly delighted to be up so late past the usual curfew.

You slip in between the shadows of the columns at Trost headquarters and find a deserted pair of steps right outside one of the entrances. 

The echoes of mirth from the central grounds lingers in the air.

Without the presence of others around you, you sigh as you release the hold on the unfavorable thoughts that crept into your mind earlier.

Grief. Loneliness. Envy.

Feelings that you hated addressing. You’re irritated that tonight evoked such a strong resurgence from where they laid, deeply buried in the back of your mind.

You chose the life of a soldier. A life of resilience. While you understand the path you carved for yourself, you can’t help but recognize the layers of support that your other cadets came here with. Their families and communities back home, waiting with warmth and pride.

The love that you no longer have to fall back on.

Not to make light of the friendships you have built here, you know you’re grateful for your comrades who you have become close to. But it’s just not the same.

Regardless, you have to keep pushing yourself ahead.

But you still find yourself easing onto the steps, drawing your knees closer so you can wrap your arms under your thighs.

Tucking your chin on your knees, you hug them tightly. You tell yourself that you'll allow one moment of self-pity. 

Just one.

Then, you'll shove down these undesired feelings and return back to the bubble of warmth at the center of campus.

Like how soldiers do. 

“What are you doing out here, F/N?” 

In your haste to get away, you didn't realize you attracted a follower.

You sniff and turn towards your visitor.

“Nothing, Eren”

“It doesn’t look like nothing if you’re out here by yourself,” he says as he sits beside you on the stone steps without asking.

You silently bite the insides of your cheeks, mentally unprepared to handle a confrontation.

“It’s late. Everyone is heading back to the barracks soon and are wondering where you are,” Eren says, almost more gently. 

You look away as you puff your cheeks out.

“Okay. Tell everyone to go ahead without me.” 

“What’s wrong?” Eren asks seriously.

While you recognize he is attempting to help, you stubbornly stay silent.

Eren’s patience wears thin with every passing second. Sighing, he leans over and drills his annoyed eyes at you. His presence eventually makes it too awkward for you to ignore him, so you slowly turn your face to meet his gaze. His vivid emeralds hold you hostage and you can’t help but break under their pressure.

“It’s just....seeing how happy Jean was and the sheer pride in his mom earlier today,” you mumble quietly, “I got envious.”

Eren quickly expels the air in his lungs and crosses his arms. 

“Don’t ever feel envy towards Horseface,” Eren says almost automatically.

You laugh at his knee jerk reaction.

“It’s a silly thing to get emotional about,” you say in your most convincing manner. “ It's not a fair comparison. Besides, if I don’t think about it, I can deal with everything just fine - ” 

‘Why do you keep doing that?” Eren rudely cuts in.

A light frown forms on your face and you ask him to elaborate.

“Why do you keep downplaying yourself?”

You’re a little miffed about Eren’s call out. But the more you think about it, the deeper you sigh. Unraveling your arms, you place them by your sides on the steps instead.

“I hate that I feel this way. It’s not like I can do anything to bring my home or family back,” you say dejected. “Besides, I feel like I’m preaching to the choir. I’m not the only person who has lost loved ones here.” 

Eren swivels his head away and tries to sort the message in his mind out thoughtfully. 

“It’s different for me though. I still have Armin and Mikasa. They’ve been with me from the start so they’re my family now,” Eren tries to counter.

A small tinge of hurt runs through you as you mull over how small and new your support group is. Especially compared to how deeply rooted Eren is with those two. You don’t think his words intended to make you feel more isolated, but they did.

Eren quickly realizes the unintended impact of his words. 

“That’s not what I meant, ” he says quickly, shooting one hand to entangle itself into his hair. Rubbing his head, he opens his mouth but pauses again to gather his thoughts. “I just think that suppressing your feelings would be a disservice to yourself.”

Even though you've made it this far dealing with your emotional burdens, you recognize that he makes a fair argument.

“Is that how you push through?” you ask, interested in his views. 

Eren nods in response.

“I can’t hide how angry I am about this world. So I don't try to.”

Eren's words lead you to reflect to upon the rage he has against titans. How he channels it towards his vendetta against them instead.

“That’s really brave,” you say, gripping the steps tighter, feeling their tiny ridges against the tips of your fingers. 

“I know that you’re right. Today just felt like an unwelcome slap from reality that it’s just me,” you admit. You lightly scowl at yourself, wishing for the day where you won't feel this bad when reflecting on your circumstances. 

An expression that Eren doesn't ignore. 

“F/N, you don’t have to feel alone. The next time you feel that way, come find me,” Eren insists.

Your eyes widen and you peer over at him, studying his body language. 

Did you hear his invitation correctly?

His face flushes from your intent scrutiny.

“I mean, really, you can find any of us. Marco, Sasha, Armin, hell even Jean,” he stammers, rubbing his fingers together quickly. He drops them and leans his forearms on his knees as he turns to you, “ Point being, we’re here with you F/N.” 

Hearing him list off the people you can lean on, reiterates that they already exist as part of your strength.

The tension slowly eases off your body as you soak in the reminder. 

“You really care a lot about your friends, don’t you Eren,” you say, with a light tease in your tone.

“Of course I do,” he replies, without missing a beat. 

There’s a kindness in Eren’s eyes that makes you feel comforted. 

“Thank you.”

Maybe your support circle is more robust than you thought.

Feeling lighter, you push yourself into a standing position, straightening the wrinkles off your pants. Looking down at Eren still sitting on the step, you extend a hand to him.

“Let’s go,” you offer, not wanting him to wait any longer. 

Eren’s calloused palm grips your own as he pulls himself up. Shifting, he turns to face the corridor that leads to the soldier's barracks.

Expecting him to let go, your breath catches when Eren keeps his grip tightly on yours as he pulls you a couple steps along. You can’t help but notice the warmth from his palm or how easily your hand seem to meld into his. 

Your grip slackens in surprise. 

But as quickly as the pressure comes, it leaves when he whips his hand away.

You’re left wondering if he really did hold on for as long as you believed he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore cannon-related continuity issues.
> 
> Did you know there are multiple correct ways to spell omelette? I have zero idea what to title this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Final Exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Final Exams.

The sounds of ink grazing across papers fill the classroom, creating a symphony of scratching and shuffling. 

Neat rows of desks pack the floor, each sitting one cadet on their own little island. Its uniformity mirrors the interchangeable nature of the aspiring soldiers in the room. 

Sitting in the right pocket corner of your classmates, you drum a solo with your pen as you scour your brain for any additional recollections of the recon method you had scribbled out on your sheet. Smudges of ink litter the corner of your parchment and you hope your scorer doesn’t fault you for etching your sweat into your words. 

“10 mins,” Shadis’s shout lacerates the thick ambience, interrupting your flustered thoughts. Scorching your strained gaze back on your paper, your tapping increases rapidly against your wooden desk. 

You wish that your familiar tendency will churn the gears faster in your brain. But the more you read and reread the words on your paper, the more it makes your head throb. 

The sudden time crunch brings forward anxiety that gnaws at you, threatening to eat you alive, starting from your entrails. 

Sighing, you drag your tired eyes away from the wretched paper to peek at the rest of the cadets in the room. Most of your comrades were frantically scrawling against the clock. You notice many seek comfort from their nervous habits, from pulling the ends of their hair to chewing loudly on their nails. 

However, the ones who are excelling this portion clearly stand out. You trace Marco’s delicate motions, as he carefully flips between the pages of his answer booklet, slowly parsing through his work. You can’t make out the words on his sheets, but the uniform lines of answers seem to spill well past the limits of the response boxes. Angling your head even further towards your left, you see Armin waiting patiently, with both his hands intertwined together, resting on his closed booklet. 

_Focus_ , you urge yourself, as you sigh and force your chin back towards your sheet again.

Squeezing your eyes tightly, you search your fatigued mind for answers you didn’t have.

You were stumped on your articulation. Writing down some premises, you haphazardly try to connect them into a half-formed conclusion on why you believed it was better for the scouting team to abandon their mission.

“Time’s up! Drop your pens and hand back your tests,” Shadis announces, eliciting a collective exasperated groan from his trainees.

 _Shit_. You slam your pen down harshly. It rattles back and forth, grazing against your worn desk as you peel yourself from your seat. You rub a few sore spots along your back that ache from staying from rigidity.

Flipping your booklet over to its back cover, you curse once more to yourself.

The last page stares back with two short answer tactic questions.

Left completely blank.

You bite back a pathetic quiver of your lips as immense disappointment and inadequacy plague your mind and run your blood cold. 

When you reach your proctor, you practically thrust your answers forward before hastening your pace to hightail out of this anxiety-ridden room. 

Stepping outside, you suck in a deep, well-needed breath of fresh air. You soak in the sun’s bright rays and bask in the slightly humid weather, asking it to help ease your worries. As your pulse normalizes and the ache behind your eyes throb away, you remind yourself that there’s nothing you can do about your test now. 

A light frown still persists, as the weight of an additional pressure sags your shoulders. 

This isn’t how you wanted to feel, walking out of your only written exam. You have your work cut out for the remainder of the placement exams.

* * *

Soaring wildly through the air, you instinctively feel more in your element. 

The familiar rush of endorphins burns the tips of your fingers as you raise your blades to cut through your targets cleanly as soon as they appear. 

48 down. 2 more to go.

Frantically scouring the ground, you search for the remaining titan cardboards. Your peripherals pick up the slightest of movements and you release even more gas in your canister to pivot mid-air. 

Shifting your foot straps as steeply as you can, you release your hooks so that you’re barreling towards the ground in free form. Twisting your upper body, you slice through both napes with a complete 360° turn as you grin uncontrollably for pulling off such a reckless but rewarding maneuver. 

You’ll be sure to thank Sasha profusely for showing you that neat trick during dinner. 

Swinging your way out of the remaining forest, you land lightly on both your feet at the finish line. You sheath your nearly dull weapons and look at your proctor expectantly, as several lines of sweat percolate off your forehead and pool around the crevices in your neck. 

“As graceful as always L/N,” the older soldier comments, scribbling away into her clipboard without sparing you a second glance.

A surge of confidence rides through you as you beam at the compliment. Shifting your gaze over at the other two proctors, you peruse their body language, hoping that they were equally impressed since scores are averaged among the administrators.

Either way, you know you nailed the individual time trials. 

You hear a light thud land beside you, indicating another arrival.

“You feeling good Jean?”

“Hell yeah,” the confident trainee responds, swiping off the residual dust accumulated during his run. “You looked strong out there,” he throws over his shoulder, as he looks for your usual group of comrades. Armin waves you over from where he sits and you quickly follow Jean’s lead towards him. 

“You two were amazing,” Armin praises with a soft smile on his boyish, round face when you approach. 

“Great to see final exams are going smoothly,” Marco chimes in from the ground as well. 

“It’s so obvious who the top tier cadets are here,” Armin mumbles as his smile falters. He shamefully casts his eyes towards his curled hands on the grassy terrain. The blades bleed from green to a dulling yellow due to lack of rainfall.

“Thanks Armin,” Jean grins, inhaling the compliment. He noisily flops himself next to Marco, stretching his long limbs to nearly collide with the freckled trainee’s bent legs. The other teen doesn’t mind the blatant invasion of space. 

You frown lightly as you cross your arms and remain standing. Your neurons were still too fired up for you to sit still.

“Armin, that better not be a jab at yourself. We don’t all have to be top gear maneverists. We’ll need excellent strategists too,” you say. “You know you aced the written portion. So lean into that and be proud of that insane brain of yours,” you smile at the boy.

The blonde returns a demure smile and softly sputters his gratitude for your faith in him. 

Soon, more cadets join your section as the time trials quickly wrap up. The range of disappointment to elation warp together, mixing in with resigned sighs of relief that you’re nearly done with your assessments. 

When the last cadet lands, Shadis bellows as you once more to listen closely for the final part of your exams.

The ex-Commander explains the next three days will be split into several rounds of individual competition to determine the remaining criteria for your rankings. Only half of your class will be invited to compete on the first day. Then, on the second day that invitation will be cut in half again. Finally, the third and final day will be dedicated solely towards teamwork and competing for the top 10 spots. 

He further details how your scores from today will be collected and tallied with the sporadic scoring they have collected on you these last few years. He assured you all that you will be paired up with folks on equal footing to make sure the matches are even. 

If you don’t score high enough individually, you’ll be axed from the competitive team aspect on the third day. Which means you won’t have a shot at making the top ten.

You swallow thickly as your pulse races, taking in his explanation with a heightened sense of anticipation. 

“Get some rest. You’ll need everything you have against the rest of the week.”

* * *

Reading your name on today’s roster evoked an enormous sense of relief.

You’ve made it into the last cut.

You nearly fidgeted all throughout the previous night as you begged your body to conserve itself and rest.

At the crack of dawn, Shadis instructed the small, weeded out group about the competition of the day - flag racing. Two velcro strips have been attached to your gear, where your spare blades box typically sits. Each strip is two feet long and dangles off your back. The objective of the round is to snatch as many of your opponent’s flags before the timer stops. If you take all flags, you automatically win the round. If the number of flags taken is even for both teams, neither advance.

As the day progressed, you had won with Reiner, Annie, and Jean. However, you lost against the teams led by Marco, Ymir, and Mikasa.

Three losses and three wins. By your calculations, you had to win your final round of the day. If so, you would still be in the running of breaking into the top rankings. However, if you lose your chances are almost shot.

Throughout the rounds, you found immense gratification in working with the allies you were paired with. You trusted Jean’s leadership and judgement, which led you to a victory with little resistance. Annie was sharp and quick, and surprisingly your offensive tactics worked in tandem easily that quickly swept success. 

Reiner turned out to be your favorite partner of the day. Not only was he strong, fast, and highly tactical, he was easy to communicate with and easily read your actions which fostered quick collaboration. No wonder so many cadets admirably dub him the big brother of the class.

Eren is proving by far to be your least favorite. 

He’s just so stubborn.

You’ve been matched against Jean and Sasha and instantly sensed the fire between the males. 

Your warning senses tingled, but you brushed it off, staying optimistic that you would make a strong team.

The first red flag was when Eren propelled himself into the woods without you. Expecting you to adhere to his lead without hesitation. 

The second red flag was when he dismissed your concerns about his issued orders and approach. 

Straining both ears against the whistling wind, you keep your body hidden in the high treetops as you comb through the woods for any sign of movement. Eren crouches in a similar position nearby as he scans the silent area.

“They’re not here. Let’s look for them further ahead.”

Pulling your alarmed face towards your eager partner, you try to dissuade him from leaving your cleared safe zone. “I think it’s better if we play the long game and wait for them here. They’ll have a difficult time spotting us and we have the higher vantage point.”

The headstrong brunette shakes his head, letting his loose strands wave with each sway. “We can’t be sitting ducks, it’s better if we take on the offensive.”

A soft but distinct rustling pulls both your pairs of eyes across the trees. An additional echoing of sound travels further and further away.

“It’ll take too long for them to come to us. We have to go after them.”

With that, Eren jumps from his branch and launches himself forward, deeper into the forest. Growling, agitation pumps through your vessels as you feel backed in a corner, with no choice but to tail him. 

As you edge further into the thicket of overgrowth, the hairs on your skin prickle and your eyes dart around. Anxious that one of them is going to drop on you at any moment. 

A flash of copper-toned hair briefly crosses your left peripheral. 

Eren noticed it first.

Swinging himself dramatically through the trees, he locks himself after his target. Although Jean expertly bobs and weaves through the course, Eren barrels himself through with a merciless force rapidly shrinking their distance. Delighted, he nearly yells in triumph as he yanks off a single flag, hearing a satisfying rip permeate the air.

“Fucking dammit!” Jean curses as he twists his upper body and pulls himself towards a denser patch of trees to escape from his pursuer. 

“Come back, I’ll end this quickly,” Eren has the audacity to taunt as he relentlessly persists.

Suddenly, Jean whips around and attacks Eren straight on. Eren startles and moves to evade Jean’s intrusive hands, but isn’t quick enough to stop him from taking one of his flags. Jean smirks with a snicker before propelling himself away. 

You were so focused on keeping up with the zigzagging males that you failed to notice Sasha creeping up behind you, stalking your every movement. Dismay washes through your frame as you hear two distinct velcro rips.

Sasha beams at you, waving both your flags in her hands before launching her hooks again. She sticks her tongue out and spews an empty apology before zipping into the opposite direction. 

Confusion sprawls in your mind as you wonder why she didn’t chase after Eren. 

Then, you realized their plan.

They fucking baited you.

You were then presented with the third red flag - walking directly into your opponent’s plan and actually losing both your flags.

You scowl at your carelessness. Cursing, you pivot towards the competing trainees and call out to Eren.

Your eyes follow Jean’s movements as he weaves in and out of the trees, further away from your tenacious partner. 

Snapping your head further along Jean’s path, you draw out that he’s heading in the direction of his teammate.

While you recognize that you are very team-oriented and tend to default to others’ sound judgements, you can’t keep sitting idly by and allowing Eren to act recklessly without intervening. 

As Eren flies closer, and you lunge at him with an explosion of gas to intercept his path.

He lets out a strangled yelp as you grab onto the back of his straps, throwing both your bodies onto a nearby overextended tree branch.

“What are you doing?” he nearly spits at you, flashing his livid green eyes.

“You need to learn to fucking wait Yeager,” you growl, boring your drained, half-lidded gaze into his.

The instructors have purposefully run you ragged these past few days and the absolute exhaustion is catching up to you. Your limbs feel as soft as jelly, waiting to collapse at your command and only held upwards by your sheer will. 

“We have to go after them!” Eren tries pulling out of your grip, but you channel all your strength to stay latched on.

“Objectively we are the weaker team.”

He snarls at the comparison. “ What are you talking about? You're fast and I’m strong with my gear.”

“I’m not faster than Sasha and we’re not using our weapons here so your strength is meaningless. If we keep plowing ahead, we’re going to lose our remaining flag,” you say.

Eren stops resisting to soak in your words. He cranes his neck to gouge the sides of your hips, noticing they’re empty of the neon strips. 

“They got both of yours?” he grits his teeth as he sinks his eyebrows lower in frustration.

“When you were busy being tunnel-visioned after Jean, Sasha targeted me. They purposefully used him as a distraction.” You confirm, easing your tight grip on his straps once he showed signs of reducing his struggle.

“We can’t just give up now, there’s still a chance we can win.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we give up. We just need a little more time to think.”

“What’s there to think about?” Eren exasperates. You narrow your eyes at his assertion. Does he realize that he’s being fueled by competition over strategy?

“If that’s your mentality, then we’ll both fail this portion,” you reply dryly, finally letting go of his back harness causing him to trip forward.

He glares at you but reads the frustration loud and clear on your wilted body.

“So then, what do we do?” Eren asks flatly, tightening his fists.

“We take the time to make a plan,” you reply, crossing both your arms tightly across your chest, drumming your fingers along your bicep.

Eren scoffs, irritation deepening in his eyes. The minute shifting highlights his own dark bags under them. 

“We’re wasting time, there’s not much left of it this round,” he frustratingly points out.

“We’ll waste more time if we don’t plan a strategy.”

“Our best option is to confront them again. You don’t have anything to lose at this point.”

“But we only have one chance. Are we really going to rely on such a risky tactic?”

“Whatever,” Eren resoundly sighs. “Clock’s ticking. I’m going.” He moves to leave where you have been idling.

“You can if you want. _But I’m not going to chase after you_ ,” you emphasize firmly, tightening your posture. Like his dear friends, you add silently. 

The distinction you draw registers clearly on Eren’s face. He bores his intense, bright hues at you but you don’t back down.

A heavy pause endues.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“Eren, I know you don’t care about the top ten placements, _but I do_.”

He stops and looks at you with his jaws slack. Your penetrating stare makes him fidget uneasily. 

“If you continue to act irrationally and recklessly, you’re going to sabotage my chances, whether you did it intentionally or not. That’s not something I want to risk.”

You continue to hold his gaze with your unrelenting one for a deeply uncomfortable moment. One that makes him want to twitch out of his skin. 

“Fine.”

Eren unclenches his fists and settle them lightly across his chest to mirror your pose. 

“You deserve to be in the top 10. I shouldn’t hold you back,” he admits.

You blink your wide eyes at him, failing to hide your surprise. Did he really back down? You can’t help but feel like you reached a milestone through Eren’s thick head today. 

“Do trust me?” you inquire intensely.

He looks up and sees your tightly clenched face, determined to do anything to make this situation work.

“I trust you.”

A small grin peeks out from the corner of your lips.

“Ok, then listen up.”

You’ve been cooking up a counter-ambush strategy and you explained the barebones layout you had in mind. The course only has one entry and exit at the base of this section of woods. So you’ll wait until nearly the last moment to tackle them there. Eren follows along and offers tweaks to your plan, and collectively you decide your next steps.

You both agree it was best for you to take Sasha on and Eren to continue seeking Jean. It’s the better skills match up. Since Jean and Sasha have nothing more to gain by going after you, it’s better for you to serve as the distraction. However, they would obviously be more wary of Eren and would expect your strategy.

To fight off their suspicions, you instructed Eren to follow your lead by tying your brown trainee jacket over your head, hiding your hair and parts of your face.

Ideally, the extra second it would take for them to distinguish you and Eren apart would cost them the game.

After solidifying your plan, you swing yourselves through the trees, quickly arriving at your destination to conceal yourselves.

You raise one arm with your pointer finger out, while placing your other over your lips, signaling him to quiet his movements.

“We go on my signal,” you order. Eren nods stiffly, bracing himself for his moment. 

“One minute left cadets!” a voice loudly shorts below, right outside the obstacle area.

Your body tenses and blood rushes to your head as you anxiously watch the trees. Eren darts his eyes rapidly around, breath heavy and loud in the air.

You hope this pays off.

“We got this Eren,” you whisper encouragingly at him, seeing his nerves show. He nods back tightly at you with a reinvigorated shine in his features.

Then, you hear two pairs of whirling ODM gear quickly approaching you.

You keep your arm up, indicating that you’re not ready yet.

Anticipation builds in your stomach as you listen to them drawing closer by the second.

Almost... 

Almost... 

_Now._

Dropping yourself in freefall, you release your gas before nearly tumbling into Sasha and grappling at both sides of her body.

She yelps at the sudden movement then shouts in disdain when you rip both her strips off the velcro. Hearing their loud releases draws a deep sense of satisfaction from your core.

“Sasha!” Jean shouts, turning his head to view his teammate, confusion evident in his tone.

As soon Jean’s back is turned, Eren launches towards him from above. Swiping the last strip needed to secure your victory, the tear echoes like music to your ears.

You both propel away from the pair as they process what happened.

“Time!” your proctor announces just as you both land on your feet.

You choke down deep gulps of air as you proudly raise both arms high above your head, letting the strips blow with the wind. 

“L/N and Yeager take this round.” The competing pair next to you cry out in anguish. 

You drop your flags and pull the jacket off your head to toss it carelessly onto the ground. Jumping in the air with joy, you spin towards Eren with an enormous smile, one that stretches your cheeks so hard it almost hurts. 

“We did it!” you exclaim. 

Finally, you feel the wound up ball of stress and pressure that has festered throughout the week begin to unravel. 

In your flurry of elation, you instinctively reach for both of Eren’s hands with yours, and squeeze them tightly. He looks down at your entwined palms, before returning your warmth and nodding his head fervently. 

Will this be enough to edge you into the top ten?

* * *

Tomorrow morning, the results from your final examinations will be posted. Giving you the privilege of mulling over your rankings while you descend onto the long trek back over to Trost district.

However, since today is the last evening on grounds, curfew has been excused. Most of the trainees flock towards the nearby lake and Sasha hurriedly tugs you along with them. The sun doesn’t set until well into the summer evening. The remaining warm, bright rays guide your large group’s ambling to the shores.

Your comrades joyously congregate around each other in the cool, clear lake against the sinking horizon. Jean and Connie splash nearby trainees who shriek in protest and fight back. Meanwhile, Reiner dunks Bertholdt into the water with a hearty laugh who is quick to also drag him down, as Ymir howls at them nearby.

You’re still tired from the week. However, being in the spirits of your allies who are clearly enjoying themselves in these beautiful waters, sparks a rejuvenation of your spirit. 

You stand ankle deep in the lake, a respectable distance away from your comrades. They soon divide themselves into teams as part of a race to aggressively soak each other. Refusing to partake in their water wars, you raise your hands up against your face when droplets pellet your way.You stifle your giggles as you slink away, hoping that no one drags you into their alliance.

You pick up your limp, beige towel with your dominant hand. It’s color has faded and drained away over countless washes. You press its residual fluff to dry off your limbs and hands. 

Spotting a single individual a few meters away in the shade, you contemplate leaving them be, but decide to heed toward your body's telling pull.

“Are you ready to graduate into the Survey Corps this weekend?”

Eren’s wide eyes shine up at you as you tower over his sitting figure with a knowing smirk on your face. He instinctively scooches himself over, inviting your company. You fail to notice him flickering his eyes across your glowing skin that glistens with the residual drops of wetness, reflecting tiny specks from the fading sun. 

Dropping yourself next to him, you wonder if he also realizes you’re sitting in the exact same spot as your late evening together. When you peek at him, his impassive face doesn’t indicate either way. 

“I can’t wait,” Eren replies, closing his eyes as he stretches his arms and opens his broad chest out. As if to prove to the world he’s ready for whatever else it wants to hurl his way.

You catch yourself tracing his actions and look away in mild shame for leering. When he reopens his eyes, you follow his line of sight towards Armin, Mikasa, and Marco. The trio sit contently on the edge of the shores, digging their bare feet into the white sands in an almost child-like manner. Armin chats enthusiastically with Marco who eagerly returns his rapidfire while Mikasa absentmindedly drags her long fingers back and forth along the soft, white grains.

“I’ve felt trapped in these walls for so long, but in just a few short days, that all changes.” His face brightens, and you follow the dance of glimmers in his eyes as they shine with the promise of fulfilling his dreams and possibilities. 

“The rush feels exhilarating,” Eren finishes, draping a loose arm over his knee and pulling his face back towards his friends. You nod as you soak in his enthusiasm. Whatever excitement he feels for joining his vyed after branch, you hope you can emulate the same energy for yours. 

“You don’t seem to get tired of me talking about the Scouts,” Eren states more than questions. “Why is that?” The ends of his question perk his eyebrows up just the slightest bit as he eagerly peers at you. 

The edges of your mouth crinkle as you fold your arms over your outstretched legs that press into the dry grass below.

“Maybe I’ll miss it once we leave this place,” you muse, selfishly admitting in your head that you just wanted to spend a little more time with the alluring boy. 

Eren doesn’t respond to your comment, but you swear a dusting of pink flirts across his cheeks. 

“You’ll have to tell me what it’s like out there, past these walls,” you continue. “You know, after you conquer those disgusting titans,” you say, a lopsided grin peeking out.

A tight smirk slithers itself onto the teen’s face, as he shines his indignant, bright eyes at the lapping waters that swirl around your laughing comrades.

“Absolutely. They won’t stand a chance,” Eren alleges. He pauses before adding, “The military police will have hell to pay once you join their ranks.”

You nod, chuckling at his faith in you. “They goddamn better.”

It hits you that this is likely some of the last moments you’ll spend with the teen. You do hope you’ll run into each other in the future. Whatever that looks like. 

“It’s been a pleasure training alongside you,” you say slowly, gripping your knees, almost longingly. 

Eren swivels his head towards you, chestnut brown locks brushing against his cheeks, as he offers a mild smile. 

“Same with you, F/N.”

You watch the fading rays of the evening sun drop past the skyline together. The vibrant orange and red hues of the day gradually dissipate into the dark, glowing night skies.

* * *

This is it. 

You slide yourself past your mates, some dejected and some elated, slithering your way towards your fate.

Hope sits lightly on your chest, as you choose to scan the roster from the bottom up. Familiar names pass your line of sight, and your anticipation only grows as you slowly make your way towards the top, yet to come across your own.

The pressure of these results build and you revisit the guilt of turning down Wall Sina’s safety when it was handed to you. 

You promised you would refuse to step back into that wall unless you were an officer.

But, what would you do if you didn’t make it? Would these last three years have been wasted? You can’t imagine subjecting yourself to the unadulterated mediocrity and gridlocked bureaucracy of the Garrison. 

No, you wouldn’t do that to yourself. You would rather rot away.

There is another possibility though.

You think of Eren, and break your contact with the list to steal a glance his way. He stands idly by with his usual group, beyond the crowd and doesn’t bother looking at the roster. Why would he, when he already knows where he wants to serve?

The Survey Corps Regiment. 

You dare yourself to consider dawning their billowing green capes, etched with its signature large crossing blue and white wings. 

Could you find freedom and meaning in dedicating yourself to the Scouts?

Using your life as a body to be disposed of at your Commander’s order?

Never knowing if your sacrifice helped society?

Playing devil’s advocate with yourself, you imagine how much more humanity would benefit if you could conquer titans and live beyond the walls. You can’t help but think that entertaining that ideation seems irresponsible given the harsh reality before you. 

But is that any more far-fetched than thinking that you as a single being can take down the injustice perpetrated by the Military Police? 

Your eyes finally land on your name and your mind goes into overdrive, mulling over the decision you now have to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	6. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Your celebration together.
> 
> Author's disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

“Attention Cadets! I present you, your top ten graduates!”

Holding your dignified stance in line, you look out proudly at the sea of your fellow graduates.

The people that you feel privileged to call your comrades and friends. 

The brave, dedicated individuals who were successfully able to withstand the physical limits and mental exhaustion of rebuilding their foundation from young teenagers into soldiers. 

The ones who you will readily defend during your career with the military. 

You silently send a message to the universe, wondering if your mother would be proud of you. A soft smile graces your lips as you know that deep down she would. She would have been furious that you dedicated yourself on this path, but that wouldn’t take away from her pride. Your eyes soften at the thought and wished again she could have experienced this milestone with you. 

As the commanding officer continues praising the efforts of all your colleagues, you sneak a glance at two male cadets further ahead of you in line. Jean and Marco stand side by side, beaming out from their coveted spots. Your pride swells as the three of you made it into the top together as promised. 

Finally, you are released for the evening until the swear in ceremony tomorrow afternoon. The concluding act of your time with the training corps. Where you will officially select the branch you are further dedicating yourself to. As you file off the stage one by one, you glance at a smaller figure ahead of you.

Jogging quickly, you catch up with her to exchange a few words. 

“Looking forward to serving with you Annie,” you say grinning at the usually unfriendly female. 

The stoic blonde turns to notice you and nods curtly in response. Your affinity with the powerful cadet has ameliorated over your time together, but you still feel a tiny but noticeable flare of intimidation when you address her. 

Though Annie rarely partook in group activities that helped bond most of the cadets here, that didn’t stop others from being curious about her. You respected her space, but made it clear that if she was to seek allyship, you would be there for her.

She never took you up on that offer, but the fact that she stopped throwing death glares at you is a huge win in your book.

* * *

The mess hall inside Trost District bustles alive with mirth and chatter.

You opted to change into your civilian clothes for the informal environment tonight. Your white, long sleeves flow behind you and your tan trousers sit high and comfortable on your waistline. You feel a little incomplete being out of your standard uniform, but enjoy the lightness in your step that usually bears the weight of your gear.

Walking through the large doors into the mess hall, you take a pause to search the area for familiar faces. 

“F/N, over here!” you hear Marco shout from your right. Twisting your frame towards the boy, you happily follow the sound of his cheery voice. 

Jean slides a mug towards you as you approach the table with your usual mates.

Gripping the handle, you tilt the contents immediately into your mouth, expecting sweet fruit juice. The military usually reserves them for special occasions, which tonight clearly calls for. 

Your tongue meets malty liquid instead and you choke through your gulp in surprise. 

"Th-this...isn't juice," you sputter to which Jean roars with laughter.

"Of course not, we’re celebrating tonight!" he exclaims, raising his own cup into the air before downing a few sips. 

"This is some cheap ass beer, they couldn't do better?" you mutter as you let the harsh liquid slip past your tongue.

Your comrades around you do not seem to mind.

Free booze is still booze after all.

Jean turns to throw an arm around Marco’s shoulder and grips him closer.

“Just think, tomorrow the three of us are set to join the Interior. We don’t have to see most of these rotten assholes ever again,” he sneers.

The hot-tempered male seems more worked up than usual.

“Did something happen?” you cup a whisper to Marco, who manages to loosen himself from Jean’s unforgiving grip.

“He and Eren got into it before you got here,” he whispers back.

“They just can’t resist each other can they?” you grin, looking around to find that the culprit in question is nowhere to be found. 

“I still can’t believe that titan-idiot scored above me,” Jean mumbles. 

You chuckle at his hyper-competitiveness. It’s still so easy to get him riled up.

“You and me both, friend,” you joke, leaning on one of your elbows. Though you were three spots behind Eren, not nearly as close as Jean.

“But Jean,” you catch said person’s attention, “don’t worry about anybody else. You should be proud of everything you put yourself through these last years. They’re about to pay off tomorrow.”

“Yes! Let’s cheer to that,” Marco agrees, raising his glass into the air.

You gladly lift your glass to match his and look at Jean expectantly. He sighs before following and the three glasses knock into each other loudly, spilling a little over onto the faded, timber table. 

“You’re right. Congratulations to us!” Jean gleams, looking at you and Marco with pride boasting his words. 

You sip your sour beer, utterly content to be celebrating this moment with your close allies. Knowing that you won’t be joining the Military Police alone lifts a bundle of worry off your shoulders. 

After taking a swig of his drink, Jean wipes his mouth before playfully grinning. 

“Hey, F/N when we’re officers, it’ll be your job to set me up with cute girls. They better be really, really cute too. With pretty hair,” he trails off, inadvertently glancing around for a certain, black-haired beauty, who wasn’t in the room.

“I don’t want that job,” you laugh before turning towards the taller cadet, ”Marco, you’re a better people-person than I am. You help him.”

The freckled teen chuckles, “ Don’t sell yourself short F/N. I think you would be an excellent wing-woman for Jean.”

“Hard pass,” you grumble, downing the rest of your drink.

“What? It’ll be so easy. You’ll be living in the female dorms. All you have to do is slip my name out. Like, oh I heard that Jean is so handsome and such a great officer,” Jean self-absorbs as he conjures up this imaginary desire and demand for his attention. 

You and Marco nearly howl in laughter, while you cover up your wide grin refusing to even dignify that with a response. 

“Why are we even friends, if you won’t bother helping me out,” Jean huffs with a near pout. 

“Are you only friends with us these past three years, hoping you can get something more out of it?” Marco teases Jean with a light smile, nudging his shoulder.

As Jean wears a sullen frown, you stop giggling to pause as you mull over his question seriously. 

“Because you’re honest and you’re loyal. Both those traits matter to me. It clearly matters to you too, so this is mutually beneficial,” you say whipping your hands between you two, indicating an invisible tether, “ You may be hot-headed and stubborn, but I know that your heart is always in the right place. So I trust you.”

“Jean, as arrogant as you can come off, it comes from a place of insecurity and doubt because you’re willing to be real with yourself. You don’t ignore your feelings and since you know how to work past them, that makes you a natural leader, ” Marco adds in his compliment, smiling at his close friend. 

“Also, if you really want to find someone special in your life, you seriously won’t need me for it,” you say genuinely. 

Jean actually blushes heavily at both your words, and fidgets his fingers against his drink.

“G-guys,” he coughs. He turns his amber eyes, overwhelmed with emotions, down at his mug as he grips it tightly. “I needed to hear that. Thank you.” 

You and Marco sneak each other a glance, happy to boast Jean’s confidence if that’s what he needed tonight. 

As the two male soon-to-be soldiers discuss the possibilities that come with your new lives, your heart glows listening to their words of excitement.

You grin to yourself as you reflect on the bonds you have developed together during your training days. You never would have expected a closeness like this when you first started your path here. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Jean asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Nothing,” you answer curtly, as if you were harboring a secret. But you convince yourself that your next words are worth mentioning. “ Just appreciate you two,” you spill softly after. 

“Aww, alcohol makes F/N such a sap,” Jean teases as you roll your eyes in response. What you’re drinking can hardly qualify as alcohol.

“Appreciate you as well, F/N,” Marco reciprocates.

Their affirmation only amplifies your glow.

Although the rationed alcohol soon runs out, the evening still continues on, edging towards the late of the night. You feel a sudden urge to empty your system clean, so you excuse yourself to find reprieve.

Stepping outside of the hall, it doesn’t take long to locate the restrooms.

Drying your hands on a paper towel, you throw the piece away before settling your hands on the counter. 

You stare at your reflection and study the finer details in your face.

Fierce orbs stare back and trailing further south, a clenched jaw follows. Your lips draw into a plump row and your eyebrows rest at neutral spots along your smooth forehead, decorated with just a few creases you picked up recently.

Most noticeably, the lines around your eyes have hardened over the years. Your youth is still very much evident, but persevering through the training corps along with the trauma that you endured had tightened your skin and natural expression. 

Sighing, you think about the goals you held onto so closely that pushed you through your training. The prospect of change that you promised yourself to.

How many nights had kept you doubting yourself and whether the Military Police would take you seriously in your conquest towards reform. Is it even truly feasible?

How long would you have to work yourself through the rings of their ladders in order to position yourself in a place to ripple those much needed changes? How many other lives are going to be cast aside in the meanwhile? Or worse, what if you get stuck catering to the elites and become reduced to nothing but another pawn?

Slamming your eyes shut, you grip the cold, stone counter tighter in a needed physical effort to halt your mental spiraling. 

You give your head a few quick shakes, as if you could rattle the doubt away. 

_Our only path now is forward_. 

Peeling your weary eyes open, you mull over your mother’s words that infiltrated your thoughts.

 _Always keep your eyes forward_.

Her mantra echoes over and over again in your head, reminding you that you didn’t come all this way for nothing.

There’s no point in having yourself stand in your own way. You’ll force the opposition to take you seriously if you need to. 

You know why you’re here. You trust yourself to continue moving the pieces so you can figure the rest out later. 

For justice.

Looking at the young woman in front of you, you see her fueled with indignation and purpose. Unafraid to push forward. You can’t help but you give yourself a little smirk in the mirror as you relish in the spark in your eye. 

You’ll celebrate yourself and your achievements today.

Tomorrow is when the real work will begin. 

Breaking away from your own gaze, you take in a deep breath to settle your nerves before you saunter back into the hall.

When you re-enter the doors, and look towards your table, you unexpectedly find it sits empty. Scanning around, neither Marco and Jean are to be found.

Did they leave you? 

Actually now that you’re looking, you notice most of your colleagues of your graduating class are nowhere in sight. Frowning, you ask yourself how much time has passed since you left.

It’s getting late anyways. It’s probably best that you head back to your temporary housing on base. 

As you move to leave the premises, you cease your steps when you hear your name called. Krista and Ymir both wave you over as they stand from their seats as the blonde nearly sprint towards you.

Walking more briskly towards them, you ask, “Where did everyone go?” 

“I heard that most of our graduating class is visiting the local caverns. We were waiting for you, let’s go!” Krista exclaims, reaching to tug at your sleeves along as encouragement.

You pause to ponder whether it’s a good idea to get so intoxicated before your final ceremony tomorrow. 

“All your friends are there, plus Krista patiently waited for your ass. You better not back out,” Ymir says, shoving you forward.

“Ah, okay, okay I’m going,” you say, not needing to be told twice.

Krista gleefully leads the way, as Ymir easily follows her pace with two large steps with her long legs, while you follow closely behind. 

As you almost reach the exit, you notice Berthold, Reiner and Annie huddled on the outskirts of the hall, seemingly deep in discussion. Should you invite them? Seems odd that they are the only familiar faces in this nearly empty space, but maybe they didn’t want to join the rest of your crew. Facing forward, you decide to pay them no heed as you continue tailing behind the two girls. 

However, Krista takes note and perks up.

Tugging at Ymir’s sleeve, she insists towards the taller female, “Give me a moment as I grab those three!”

The freckled girl looks down with a playful smirk, “ Hurry up or I’ll start binge drinking without you to stop me.”

Krista glares with a pout of her lips and insists that she won’t take long while rushing over to the group.

“Excellent, more company,” you grin, as you watch the short cadet work her magic.

As Krista requests the trio to join your group, you sense apprehension and an incoming rejection.

However, when she asks again with a convincing smile, pleading that this night could be your last memory together, you all swear for a second she emulates an angelic presence. 

Reiner is the first to relent. He agrees with a small stutter and a light tint in his cheeks as he falls victim to her charisma. Bertholdt shyly agrees and even Annie promises only a few drinks before she makes her escape.

Of course there was no way they could have said no to Krista.

* * *

The establishment Ymir and Krista led you to was only a few streets down and lightly packed with a younger crowd. An overwhelming smell of booze hits your nostrils when you open the door and laughter rings in the air. As you sweep the floor, several of your top cadets enter your view, dominating the corner furthest from the door. 

“What do we have here?” you grin as you approach the bustling group. 

“It’s been tradition that they let us visit the pubs on this street the night of before our induction ceremony. Our one free hall pass before we sign our lives away with the military!” Connie chirps with glee.

“Took you long enough to show,” Jean grins, as you stride up to him and Marco. 

“You didn’t bother waiting for me?” you ask, placing your hands on your hips, angling yourself to indicate minor disapproval.

Jean shrugs and smirks, “You made it here, didn’t you?”

Marco passes you a newly poured pint of light brown ale before you can further your complaint and you accept it without question. You take a sip and pause to savor the flavor.

“Ahh, less cheap than before, but still good,” you observe.

“This will likely be the last time that a lot of us get to see each other,” Mina pipes up next to you. Her double pigtails bounce when she leans towards you to say, “so let’s have one more night, celebrating the 104th graduating corps!”

The kind but spunky girl has proven herself to be a consistent training partner that you can rely on and you’re glad to see her here.

“Of course,” you say with a grin, clinking your glass against hers.

A light buzz settles among your tight group of friends as you wonder what tomorrow will bring. Your chatter then becomes interrupted by a loud voice.

“Let’s play bar games!” Jean roars a suggestion.

Your ears perk up. 

“I second!” you shout.

“ I third!” Connie follows.

“The notion passes. Let’s split up into teams,” Jean proposes with a huge smirk, laced with his competitive spirit. 

“Eh. I’ll pass, but I’ll gladly watch from the side,” Thomas says, settling into a seat at a booth nearby. A handful of other cadets follow him, but watch you all intently to see what unfolds. 

“Can we choose our teammates?” Ymir asks, already inching closer to Krista.

Reiner shakes his head, “It’s more fair if it’s random. It’s no fun if the teams are stacked.”

“How about this? We can split up into groups depending on the number of fingers you throw onto your head,” Marco suggests.

Several heads nod and he takes that as a sign to continue. Ymir obviously whispers a number into Krista’s ear.

“Okay then, I’ll count us off. One...two...three, reveal!” Marco instructs.

On the count, you throw four fingers quickly up to your forehead. 

Your comrades fervently shuffle around the space, matching up with people who had their number. You stand where you are and search the fluctuating crowd, curious who you matched with. Your eyes light up seeing the same number on Eren’s hand.

Hurrying over, you grin when he looks pleasantly surprised that your selected numbers match. 

“Good to see you Eren,” you greet the boy.

“You too,” he says, throwing a relieved smile your way. He’s probably glad he’s not matched with Jean.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect to see you here. This seems almost juvenile for your style,” you tease.

“Armin wanted to come,” Eren replies before casting his eyes to the side. “ But this can make it more fun,” he adds, his competitive streak showing. 

After the dust settles, the breakdown of the teams ends up as follows: Ymir, Krista, and Mina; Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt; Jean, Marco, and Armin; Connie, Sasha and Mikasa; and you and Eren.

“Wait,” you blurt out, looking among the teams of three, “How is this fair? We have an uneven number of teammates.” 

“Look at you, complaining already,” Ymir taunts with a tsk-tsk of her hand. 

“I’m not complaining, I’m just pointing it out,” you defend, buying in her taunt.

“Are you sure none of you want to join?” Mina asks the observers on the bench, pleading with her large, oval eyes. Their effect fails as they all shake their heads no, preferring to watch instead.

You look warily among the group then sigh. 

“It’s fine. We can take them on,” Eren asserts confidently, crossing his arms. 

“Fine,” you concede. You turn to your partner with a sly grin, “Don’t tell me you’re a lightweight.”

“Absolutely not. Don’t drag us down,” he tosses back with a smirk.

Armin and Marco figure out and explain a scoring system that would knock out a team every round. They also established drinking rules. Every time you miss scoring a single point in your round, you take one sip. Everytime you end the round without being the victor, you down your entire drink. There were a few other nuances they mentioned that you don’t remember, but you’re sure that someone from another team will police you if you miss a drink.

The first round of games involved shuffleboard.

You watch your comrades intently as they push their pucks as close to the higher scored numbers as possible, while attempting to knock out their opponents’ pieces. 

Even though this is all done in the spirit of friendly competition, the energy in the room veers more towards intensity. 

Throughout your rounds, there begins a predictable pattern of Eren overestimating his strength and putting too much force behind his moves. However, he’s adept at knocking away opponent pucks, thus canceling their scores. Meanwhile, you would often push yours too cautiously, making them easy targets to be pushed off the board. However, you were at least regularly scoring points for your team. 

You marvel at how this is so telling of your characters.

Due to inconsistent performance, you end up in the knockout round, which Eren is not happy about. 

Krista wobbles as she stands at the end of the long table, calculating her next move. She brings one hand to steady herself on one of the edges, then uses the other to sloppily push her game pieces. Unfortunately for her, she fails to secure any points which made the board wide open for Eren. He effortlessly scored five points to his delight, but he still mumbles a light apology to Krista knowing it wasn’t a very fair fight.

When it’s your turn, you easily land two pucks into the two point section. 

However, Mina then slides her pucks, which knocks both of yours off the board while securing a three pointer. When you return for your final go, you try your best to score into the higher points, but end up only edging your score one more ahead of theirs. Huffing, you sigh as you endure another glare from Eren.

You essentially positioned your team in last place. 

All Ymir has to do is score two points on the table, simply by tossing them anywhere above the minimum line, and you're through.

Eren grumbles to himself as you sigh loudly, disappointed at ruining your chances to advance to the next round together.

However, you all watch shocked as Ymir pushes all three of her pucks just enough not to cross that line, netting zero points.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. Seems strange that the most skilled player on their team would make such consistent mistakes. Glancing over at Krista, you see Ymir look at her with mild concern as the shorter girl appears rather inebriated, dropping her eyelids and leaning a little too far on her propped elbows. Maybe Ymir threw the game for her sake.

Mina glances at her two teammates with a telling smile but doesn’t say anything. Marco announces that Ymir’s team is eliminated and the rest of the competitors chant for the losers to drink. Ymir chugs her before grabbing Krista’s mostly full mug of beer and replacing it with a glass of water. 

The pink-faced cadet protests but Ymir easily twists herself out of reach.

Meanwhile, you and Eren follow suit and down your mugs. You breathe a sigh of relief that you somehow made it through the round. 

“Are you really trying?” Eren asks, annoyance written on his face. 

Your eyes flash with irritation at his insinuation. Clearly, he forgets how competitive you can be.

“If you don’t think so, then how about whoever scores the least points between us each round takes an extra drink,” you nearly sing your challenge with a smirk.

You raise your glass to him, narrowed eyes daring him to make his choice. 

He takes the bait.

“Deal.”

A collective groan emulates from your friends. 

Your smirk widens.

This will make the night even more interesting. 

* * *

Eren glares almost murderously at the board of numbers in front of him.

He sways a little back and forth and concentrates on steadying himself.

Then, he tosses his three darts.

One.

Two.

All three miss the higher numbers your team desperately needs. Eren walks away with a meager 15 points. On top of the 20 points he scored earlier, in lieu of an extra person on your team. 

Sasha and Connie yelp in celebration, synchronizing their jumps into the air. Their team now holds a pretty solid lead in first place.

You snicker as he drops back into his seat to glare at the scoreboard. 

Jean’s team was knocked out last round with billiards. Eren had held your team pretty well while you admittedly fumbled, securing a double digit lead over Sasha’s team. His confidence irked you so you made sure to glare at him in spite every time you took your punishment sips. However, this round turned those tables real quick.

It’s your final turn at the board. 

Picking up the three steel darts, you take your time to line up your aim. With a quick flick of your wrist, you throw them with sharp precision.

One.

Two.

Three single bullseyes in a row. 75 points.

"Pure luck," Eren rumbles.

"That's a really strange way of saying thank you for keeping us in the game," you smile cheekily at your partner.

“As if,” he states stubbornly, cheeks deeply flushed from his drinking. You can’t help but revel in his inability to concede. 

You two have officially moved into second place, right behind Sasha, Connie, and Mikasa.

You point to his nearly empty glass of beer and the larger pitcher sitting at the center of the table.

“Drink up,” you grin almost too gleefully.

Grumbling, he takes two large gulps of his pint glass. 

You’re clearly winning the bet. 

“Eren, slow down,” Mikasa chastises.

He rolls his eyes at her and insists he’s fine.

She pushes a cup of water towards him and he immediately pushes it away.

“You’re going to throw up if you don’t drink this,” Mikasa urges, grabbing the cup and nearly tipping the water in herself.

“Okay fine, I got it,” he growls. Your stubborn partner snatches the glass and begrudgingly hydrates himself. 

“Hmm...maybe if you paced yourself and drank water earlier you wouldn’t be missing all your shots now. Rookie move Eren,” you can’t help yourself from mocking him.

Your partner tosses a heated glare at you, as you chuckle and brush it off. 

Tonight’s a time for celebration. Besides, when would you be able to make fun of Eren like this again?

A small pang of disappointment hits your chest when you think about your paths diverging once more. You swallow that lump with another sip of your drink. 

“Why are you two squabbling?” Armin mutters, pressing his fingers into his forehead, relentlessly working to rub his headache away. 

“Eren, you pick fights with too many people here,” the blonde slurs as he tugs on his childhood friend’s arm. Armin leans into him to rest on his shoulder.

“Do not,” Eren mumbles back as he closes his eyes and slouches towards his best companion.

Your lips upturn at the adoring sight.

You turn to address the only other team left in the game. 

“How are you three so far behind? I’m surprised you’re not more coordinated,” you try to agitate the group, enduring a flat glare from Annie. “Especially you Reiner.”

“I’ve never played these games before,” Reiner admits with an embarrassed smile, bringing a brawny arm to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“You’ve never played common bar games?” you ask incredulously, missing the sharp and outright menacing look Bertholdt and Annie throw him.

“Wow, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes over here,” you chuckle, “Even I snuck into bars when I was younger.”

You hand over your set of darts to Reiner.

“Try to catch up.”

He doesn’t.

Following his efforts, Bertholdt and Annie fare well in comparison, but not enough to stay in the game.

So then there were two.

Connie and Sasha stick their tongues out to taunt you and Eren.

“Shut up, we’re gonna beat your stupid faces in,” Eren threatens with a beet red face. Maybe he should drink more water.

“Bow down to the supreme winners! It is inevitable!” Sasha taunts with a wide, out-stretched grin as she sways side to side in an overexaggerated manner.

“Oh yeah? Bring it,” you instigate, mirroring her heated grin.

* * *

As the night draws on, your vision gets hazier and your inhibitions slip away from you.

Even though your actions become sloppier and your words more blunt, you feel safe in the presence of your comrades. You soak in their buzzed chatter and high spirits, while relishing in your own alcoholic glow.

You sneak a peek at Eren as he speaks animatedly with Armin. 

You two ended up finishing in second place as you failed to surpass Connie’s team. You should have known Sasha would be a bottomless pit, even with alcohol. But it seemed like no matter how much Mikasa drank, it didn’t affect her motor abilities at all, even if she was clearly getting sleepier. Even now, she props herself on one elbow, fluttering her eyelids to force herself to stay awake, listening to Eren.

Half your group left, and you’re appreciating that the tiny handful of folks left are winding down for the night.

Looking around at the familiar faces now slumped over or flushed deep red, you chuckle as you admit that you all probably went a little overboard. 

Picking up the empty pitcher, you trudge your way over to the bartender. Placing the container on the bar, you wave for his attention.

“Can I get this filled to the brim with water please?” you ask raspily. Your dry throat desperately needed it.

The older gentleman nods and takes the container behind closed doors beyond the bar.

“What are you and your rowdy crew celebrating?” a silky voice asks you. Surprised, you perk yourself up as you turn towards the sound.

You find yourself locking your eyes with the bright hazelnut irises of a young, handsome stranger. His lean body pushes against the bar, with his jacket sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms. Dark, thick, curly locks drop down to frame his long and chiseled jaw nicely. 

A very handsome stranger. 

“Ah, are we really that loud?” you say rather sheepishly, a little embarrassed to be part of such a ruckus.

Your crew bursts out into laughter right after your sentence and he tosses a light smirk with a raised eyebrow at the timing.

“We just graduated from the training corps, so tonight’s a night of goodbyes,” you say with a rosy grin.

“A soldier? A beautiful specimen like you could’ve fooled me. Congratulations and much appreciation for your future service,” he says, offering an air cheer in your direction.

“Thank you,” you say as you can’t help your body from heating with his attention. Feeling emboldened, your eyes narrow just the slightest as you ask, “Are you arguing that soldiers aren’t allowed to also be attractive in our line of work?”

He laughs, a deep sound that is both pleasing and enticing. 

“Not at all. I just wanted an excuse to appreciate your beauty,” he says with a quick slick of his tongue. 

“Here you go, miss,” the bartender says, placing the pitcher on the counter in front of your hands. Sparing you an avenue to divert your attention away from his words that clearly singed your cheeks. 

You thank him and stretch your arms to encircle the pitcher to bring back to your group.

“Don’t go yet. We were just starting to get to know each other,” the stranger flirts, hoping to keep you around.

“Oh? What exactly are we getting to know?” you banter back, bringing your arms back to your side.

He extends a hand in your direction.

“Our names. Mine is Isaiah, and yours?”

“F/N,” you reply, taking note of his course palms.

“You must work with your hands often,” you comment curiously.

Isiah drags his eyes down and chuckles as he releases your grip. 

“Perceptive,” he grins, “ I like that. I come from a generation of blacksmiths. So we know what we're doing with them.” 

You roll your eyes at his poorly conceived innuendo. 

“What do you make?”

His eyes light up as he quickly begins listing off all his favorite products, from furniture and tools to specific materials sought out by the military. He describes how his father is priming him to take over the business once he reaches adulthood in a few short years, and how he wishes for that time to just pass already. 

His pride radiates off his face and you feel yourself become intrigued by his passions, acknowledging that there must be a lot of love that goes into his craft.

“Well. Thank you for providing us with the materials we need to do our job,” you say and he mockingly curtseys.

“So we covered occupation,” you edge on leaning your upper body on the bar to mirror his stance, “ what more is there to know?”

“So much more!” the young man laughs heartily, taking a sip of his mug. “Where’s your hometown? I was born and raised in Trost so I’m always curious about non-townies. You’re definitely not from here,” he deduces.

“Correct,” you say with a grin, “I hail from a faraway village called Xayah.”

“Xayah?” Isaiah asks, furrowing his brows, “I’m unfamiliar with your village, but if they produced someone like you, I must hear more.”

He leans closer to you and you quirk a corner of your lips as you open your mouth to playfully retort. 

“Oi, what’s taking so long?” Eren’s voice interrupts your conversation.

“Ah, I got caught up,” you reply startled as you reach to cradle the very full pitcher of water that was left sitting alone on the counter.

Isaiah looks between you two and senses the newcomer’s apprehension. Smirking, he dares himself to lean even closer towards you.

“F/N, why don’t we continue our conversation over coffee?” he asks.

Your face twists in confusion at the peculiar request. 

“Who wants to get coffee this late?” you question.

“Silly,” his laughter rumbles, “ I mean tomorrow. How does 4pm at Heron’s Cafe down the street sound?”

Right after the closing ceremony where you officially select your regiment.

Perfect timing.

Wait, is he asking you on a date? Your eyes widen at his proposition. Whatever it is though, it sounds delightful. You open your mouth to eagerly agree but a technicality crosses your mind. 

"I don't think we're allowed to uh, date civilians?" you say hesitantly and drawing a few assumptions along the way. You vaguely remember glossing over that rule for rookie soldiers, never thinking it would apply to you. 

He shrugs. “Then let's not call it a date, then. Just meet me and we'll happen to grab coffee together. How does that sound?" 

A slow grin dances on your lips as you assess his invitation. 

What’s stopping you?

"Sure, I look forward to accidentally meeting you tomorrow," you giggle as you slur your words a little. 

Your first date.

Eren's frown deepens as he reaches over to grab the pitcher of water in your hands. He tears it out of your grip, almost spilling droplets on you, before abruptly turning back to his seat.

Stunned, you turn to condemn his rudeness. Before you do, you look over your shoulder to say in a bubbly manner, “Good night! I’ll see you soon!”

“See you soon,” Isaiah winks. He leisurely picks up his long coat and saunters towards the exit.

Even his walk is enticing.

Jogging a few extra paces, you catch up with Eren and glare deeply at his face.

“Hey, what’s your deal? You couldn’t wait a few extra seconds?”

"No, what’s _your_ deal? As soon as you make top ten, your ethics just go away," he sneers, stepping forward to aim his vexed composure at you. "Is this how you're going to live within Wall Sina?"

Stunned, your eyebrows shoot up high along your forehead as you process Eren’s accusation. How _dare_ he make that assumption about you?

You unhinge your mouth and flash your eyes to give him an earful, but the irate thoughts disappear when a pair of arms wrap around tightly your shoulders.

“OOOOO F/N who was that hottie?” Ymir slurs as she leans into you.

“He was not that hot,” Eren mumbles, reclaiming his seat at the table. 

“Objectively, by all measures, yes he was,” Armin pipes up, as his childhood friend looks at him in disgust. 

“F/N, I’ve never seen you take interest in anyone like that. We could feel the heat all the way over here,” Sasha teases, fanning both her face and Connie’s who looks at you with an impossibly large cheshire grin.

“I see you’re developing a taste of Trost,” Jean wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You lightly slap his shoulder, hoping to wipe that expression off his face.

Deciding to play into the banter, you say, “Are the citizens here always so charming? I’ve also met your wonderful mother. Makes me wonder what the hell happened to you.” You poke him in a joking manner as he sputters a defense of his supposed charming mannerisms, while Marco laughs besides Jean and tries to cover up the aftershock of giggles that rack his body. 

“Have fun tomorrow kiddo,” Ymir says, releasing you to press herself up against Krista, who doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

Embarrassment floods your senses as your nosy comrades crowd you in her place, wanting to know more. 

“Okay, thank you for the attention, but I would like to divert them into something else now,” you say, turning away from your comrades to hide behind your hands. 

Wow, your inhibitions were shot. Besides, you were never one to have an excellent poker face.

A loud bell rings from the bar, as the bartender roars, “Last call! Everybody out in 10 minutes or we’ll kick you to the streets!”

“Everyone, drink another cup of water before we go. We gotta hydrate, hydrate, hydrate,” Armin says, unintentionally repeating himself as he stands up to reach for the pitcher with lethargic arms. He grips his half empty water cup up towards his mouth and forces himself to drink.

Following his orders, you chug your entire cup along with him.

A happy buzz follows your group as you make it all out before the wrath of the bar forces your exit.

Giddy laughter surrounds you as you all continue poking fun at each other. You spot Mikasa and Eren up front, shepherding the crowd of stumbling sheep. Hurrying yourself along, you quickly reach the two.

“Mikasa, can I have a chat with Eren please? I think Armin may need some help,” you say, pointing to the struggling boy. 

She looks between you two before catching a glimpse of Armin staggering along the path, being helped on one side by Marco, who admittingly is too drunk to be of much assistance. Nodding, she turns to fall back to pace with Armin. She swings one of his arms around her neck and grips his waist to ensure he doesn’t topple over face first onto the ground.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask the remaining sibling gently. 

“Nothing,” he says, obviously bitter. 

You frown, not wanting to end your night together on such a low with Eren.

“Are you jealous you can’t find a date? Eren, if you try to be less off-putting, I’m sure people will find you more appealing,” you tease.

He snaps his face towards you and angrily replies, “It’s a bad look on the military when we chase after civilians.”

While his response admittedly startled you, you can’t help but snort at his judgement.

“I didn’t give chase to anything. He very clearly came to me. Besides,” you say, skipping over a divet in the road, “Shouldn’t we be encouraged to still live our lives while we fight for a better society? Isn’t it arguable that we don’t sacrifice every last bit of our humanity?”

He glares at you and opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“If we want to work towards freedom, we must first act like we’re free to pursue what we want. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

You peer fiercely at him, not budging on your statement. He eventually flickers his eyes away. 

“Okay,” Eren admits slowly with a dusting of embarrassment on his cheeks, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Apology accepted,” you say. You lean your upper body in a little closer towards him and he eyes you warily.

“You have a weird way of saying that you’re going to miss me.”

“I didn’t say that,” he mutters under his breath, hiding his face away from yours. “But if that’s how you choose to interpret it, I can’t stop you.”

You wish he didn’t have his face turned away. Chuckling, you look upwards to appreciate the night littered with stars.

A bright twinkle shoots across the sky and your face lights up at the discovery.

Pointing towards its direction you exclaim, “Shooting star! Make a wish Eren.”

The male looks up at the galaxy with his intense hues.

“I wish to destroy every single titan in this universe.”

Even though his statement was predictable, you still burst out into laughter.

Wiping the ends of your eyes, you smile as he stares at you with amusement.

“Is it at all possible for your mind to be occupied with anything else?”

He shakes his head no, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s humoring you. 

“What did you wish for?”

“Oh, I don’t believe in wishes like that,” you answer flatly.

Annoyance crawls across his features and you cheekily grin back.

“It’s cute that you do though,” you say with mirth, shoving him playfully.

The brunette’s cheeks puff out just the slightest as his dark eyebrows knit together, drawing a few wrinkles along his forehead. He crosses his arms and huff, casting his gaze to the sky above to avoid your gaze. 

Maybe it's the booze talking, but even when Eren’s irritated, you find it difficult to look away from him.

You watch the rest of the stars fall out of the sky in silence as your vivacious group stumble over to your sleeping quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	7. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The morning after.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

You woke up with a mild headache and a parched mouth that tasted of sand. Rolling out of your warm sheets, you winced as you gripped your head tenderly between your lethargic fingers, planting both feet on the floor as a much needed grounding measure. Memories of the previous evening resurfaced back to you in bits and pieces. As they sank into their respective order, you bared through your grimace, determining that the subsequent hangover was worth all the delight you enjoyed the evening before.

The day had started out so beautifully.

The sun cast itself overhead brilliantly, shining its golden, warm rays onto Trost. The celeste blue skies lay high above, unobstructed. A gentle breeze teased through the streets, rustling light jackets, rippling knee-length skirts, and carrying the occasional melodic tune of a far-away chime. 

You walked through the winding stone roads with vim tracing your steps, as you gladly soaked in all the energy.

Today was the day you finally became a Military Police Officer.

All the pieces were set in motion to create this absolutely wonderful day.

The higher officers had to keep you busy until your ceremony, so you and a few other cadets were honored with the mundane task of brushing the entrance clean. You really wished that you were on top of the wall, inspecting the cannons and tracks even though they were clearly in perfect working condition. Poor luck of the draw, you guessed. 

Humming to yourself, you listened to your colleagues further up the stairs chat excitedly amongst themselves as a way to make time turn faster. The tedious movements of your sweeping conjured a trance that was easy to lose yourself in. 

Left.

Right.

Left again.

The reverie is quickly broken though. 

In the worst way possible.

Out of thin air, the Colossal Titan crackled and appeared right above Trost’s entrance. Towering over the fifty meter wall and emitting steam from the top of its head, the gigantum beast shrouded the beautiful sky behind it.

The sight sobers you up immediately.

You watch planted on your feet from the ground below as it’s grotesque, skinless face peers down on you and all the residents of the district.

All at once, sounds stop. 

Time suspends.

Movements cease.

Collectively, every head in Trost glues their undivided attention onto the unbelievably enormous beast. 

Chills prickle your entire body and your blood runs cold as your instincts tell you to freeze in absolute horror.

How is this happening?

All your senses fight to shut down first, reducing you to a mere puddle paralzyed by fear. Helplessness and despair infuse into the deepest corners in your mind as your grasp over your own body leaves your consciousness.

Is this it? Is today when humanity finally falls to the titans? How could you have lived as if this day would never come?

Stop. You have to stop thinking this way.

Mentally seizing yourself, you shove those thoughts aside with all your willpower. You can’t succumb to yourself. You can’t act the same way you did all those years ago when you first saw them. 

You’re a different person now.

Trained.

Agile.

Competent.

You're a _soldier_ for fuck's sake. 

You’re not going to stand idle. Wringing yourself to counter your body’s retreating impulses, you rack your brain for the next sensible action.

You need to find higher ground. 

Now.

Launching your hooks onto the nearby buildings, you push yourself like you’ve never pushed yourself before, furiously catapulting yourself, feet barely grazing each rooftop, fleeing towards the nearest wall. You stumble both of your legs sloppily on top of the fortress, and collapse heavily onto your hands while the rest of your body trembles. You thank your lucky stars you somehow made it up here through your panic.

Although you knew what wreckage was about to happen, nothing prepared you for the sight of watching the unstoppable beast kick through the sacred wall, shattering the outer gate effortlessly. 

You watch in horror as chunks of the gate hurl onto the defenseless people below. The screams of the civilians are drowned out by the screams of the Garrison soldiers next to you. Slowly, you move your gaze over where you were standing just moments before. Your breath catches as you see giant heaps of stone and bricks instead. 

You can’t properly assess if your comrades made it out safely. Your palms start to sweat as you swivel your head around the walls, desperately seeking their familiar faces. When you don't identify them, the panic from earlier pounds in your chest more painfully. Are they now buried under those mounds? Shit, why didn’t you holler at them to follow you? Why did you only run away with yourself?

Your breakfast sloshes around, nearly inducing it to hurl out as the failure to protect your comrades claws viciously at your dry throat. You cough and spit your saliva off the wall, shaking your head in a feeble attempt to clear your senses. 

There’s no time to mull on regrets. Peering at the hole where the gate used to be, the sight invites the bile to make its way back through your airways.

Titans.

Lots of them.

Coming in quickly.

They’ve breached the district.

Terror fills your soul as you know even more will flood the enclosed city soon and that the Armoured Titan is likely right on the heels of this attack. 

You sink further onto your knees as the threads of suffocation threaten to consume you. 

Wall Rose will soon be compromised.

* * *

Captain Woerman of the Garrison unit stands before you, explaining the strategy for the crisis at hand.

Every soldier around you is exhibiting complete transparency in how they are processing the breach. Veteran and trainees alike are full-blown freaking out, as if their years of training and mental fortitude meant nothing to prepare them for this day.

A day people hoped would never come, but inevitably would. 

You scowl as you try your best to ignore the crying, vomiting, and hysteria. They only tease your barely held together resolve, tempting you to break down and surrender to the crippling fear. If you can’t rely on the strength of your surrounding comrades, you’ll just have to rely on yourself.

For now, you have to prepare everything you can to fight. 

Focusing on the Captain’s plan, you hear your name and your squad assignment and prepare for deployment. 

Time is of the essence. 

Chaos ensues as nearly every soldier forgets the orderly structure that keeps the military so sound and smoothly oiled. You move past scrambling bodies, needing to make it to the gas refilling station. 

You won’t be caught out there with an empty canister. 

As you approach the center square of campus, you witness Eren and Jean collide against the other with Mikasa nearby. Suddenly, they’re yelling at each other and you move to hurry over to them as you worry their tensions may lead to something regrettable. However, you’re surprised to watch Eren knock some sense into Jean. Literally. 

The tough love works. Jean looks more composed before he rushes away, grabbing Samuel along, who has become nearly incapcitated with his own vomit. Eren then has to knock additional sense into Mikasa before she gets dragged away for her placement. 

By then, you reach his position and when he turns, you instinctively grab onto his forearm. He startles before registering that it was you who touched him. The lingering agitation from his previous two encounters is still evident in his heated eyes.

“Do you need a reminder about our fight today too?” he scoffs, tension winding his body as tightly as a freshly coiled spring.

You shake your head side to side. You know what you have been prepared for. The question is, is it enough to make it through this attack? 

“Make sure you survive,” you assert past the quivors that threaten to axe down your voice. 

Eren sighs as he mumbles under his breath something about you and Mikasa thinking he’s going to die. He throws a strong, calloused hand on top of yours and squeezes it reassuringly. 

“Come find me after all this is done,” he says as he holds your gaze intently. He doesn’t frame his request as a question. 

“I will,” you say without hesitation. 

Eren nods down at you before slipping away to his assigned post. 

You hope you can deliver on your promise.

* * *

You silently follow your assigned squad as they venture deeper and deeper towards the titan infestation. As the only trainee on Squad 65, your senses are on high alert as you don’t want to be any further of a burden to the experienced soldiers.

Your glance flickers to Captain Nero, a respected Garrison member who has almost a decade in the military under his belt. His callous manner of speaking actually gives you more assurance in this plan. Additionally, the other three soldiers on your team seem to hold very high regards for the stoic man, which restores part of your confidence.

“Rookie, I heard you were top 10. This will be a good taste of what’s ahead once we successfully protect the middle guard,” Mare asserts, the small but fierce soldier throws your way, noticing your tense composure. 

You nod tightly at her as you muster a half grin. Your nerves are definitely showing. 

Aliyah and Jacob are the remaining two soldiers who are stationed ahead of her, completing the tight formation. Flying together in uniform, you can’t help but admire the team as they proudly don the rich, red roses on the back of their tawny jackets.

You all turn the corner simultaneously and all members of the squad sputter a mixture of expletives and ill-formed prayers. 

Multiple titans greet you with monstrous grins. 

As if they were waiting for your arrival. Some of the giants had half-eaten body parts tangled in their hands, while the rest eagerly sought to find fresher ones. 

Your face pales as you reluctantly register that titans have already reached this far into the district.

“Captain! What do we do? The entire middle guard is wiped!” Aliyah shouts frantically, unable to hide the distress crawling through her words. 

“The rest of the vanguard near the breach must have followed suit,” Jacob states. His face already veers towards dejection as the rest of his posture slacks. 

Suddenly, Aliyah cries out.

Out of nowhere, a small titan jumps up and snatches her out of the air, stealing her from your team’s perfect composition. You can’t help the short screech of horror that pushes past your lips as you watch her body get crushed by the monster’s jaws. Titans can jump that high?? Nothing in your last three years of training indicated that potentially life-saving intel. 

Your Captain hounds after it, already throwing himself at the beast to try and save what’s left of her life. He yells for the remaining team to split up and be wary of other titans. But as soon as he issued his words, more appeared, as if summoned to greedily grab at your forms. Before the revered soldier can fully propel himself forward, a much taller titan seizes him in mid-air.

“Captain!” you and the remaining members of your squad shriek. 

With a quick swallow of the titan’s throat, he doesn’t get the chance to shell out any more orders. 

While you launch your hooks onto another building, you see a nearby titan reach a langy arm up and towards one of your cords. Thinking quickly, you release both tethers and watch them barely slip away from the predator’s grasp. 

Facing the countermovements of your action, you brace yourself as you tumble out of the air, possibly more than three meters from the ground, and aim where gravity takes you. Your body hits the pavement so harshly all the air gets forced out of you. Worse than any collision you have ever experienced. 

Coughing and sputtering out spit laced with droplets of blood, you grab your aching ribcage and instinctively feel around. A tiny spurt of relief follows when nothing feels broken, just incredibly bruised. The corners of your bottom lip suffers a minor split and leaves a fresh trail of drips down the side of your chin. However, that’s oh so miniscule compared to keeping your body intact. 

Sweeping your gaze around, you feel the ground shake before you see another titan amble towards you. It brings one leg disjointedly in front of the other and practically salivates at the sight of you. 

You should run.

Leave.

 **GET OUT OF ITS REACH.**

Just as you urge your legs to flee in the opposite direction, the humanoid terror abruptly collapses and topples forward with a loud thud. As smoke starts to vaporize off its body, Jacob lands on its back, having cleanly sliced off a deep chuck from its nape. 

“Keep moving!” he shouts, bringing himself into the air once more.

You hastily follow his lead, shuddering at the realization that he very well may have saved your life. 

While you’re in the air, your eyes fanatically scout the vicinity and your throat catches when you see that they have you surrounded. Which ones should you even kill first? Which direction should you prioritize your defense?

Before you get the chance to request guidance, both Jacob and Mare are jerked out of the air and trapped in the hands of two different titans. Gasping, you veer yourself onto the top of a building instead, far out of their reach.

You watch your comrades howl and struggle uselessly against their confines. Can you take on two titans? You should, it’s your duty to protect your team, just as they did you.

But, two more monsters appear, creating a perilous wall between you and your squad.

As the second tick by, the barrier pushes towards you and you can’t bring yourself to dislodge from your spot. 

A stinging crunch rings loudly in the air, cutting off Mare’s wailing. A second snap follows, resulting in a moment of deadly silence. 

It’s too late.

You’re too late to do anything more.

The titan that swallowed Mare twists and lays its dull eyes on you.

It sees you.

But you also see it.

And then, something inside you **breaks**.

It shatters so hard, your shoulders bear its aftershock, your arms tremble with the reckoning force of its will, and your breath gets caught in its veracity.

In your moment of paradigm shifting awakening, fear no longer embroils your resolution.

Instead, you’re filled with anguish and _fury_ that so many good people had to die today.

You have no choice but to fight.

No one else is going to help you. 

Each step brings the titans closer and the hairs on the back of your neck stick straight up.

**FIGHT.**

Drawing your blades, you release a feral scream into the air that resounds the rage in your soul. You scream because of the desolate events that led you to where you stand in this very instance. For all the souls that won’t live to see another day.

For the shitty reality of being reminded that you’re mere _prey_ for these insatiable monsters.

You won’t let these fuckers take you alive.

Arming your blades, you thrust yourself away from the threat, wildly in search of safer positioning. As a smaller titan approaches your direction, you raise your weapons and purge the remaining hesitation in your actions. 

You’re ready to kill.

Practically _aching_ for it.

* * *

You’re not sure how much time has passed. An hour? Ten mins? All you know is that you’re running out of clean blades and are dangerously low on gas. 

The stocky seven meter titan in front of you swings its arm down and you hop over its limb, attaching your hooks to its shoulder. Reeling yourself in, you prepare to drive your blades deeply into its neck. It falls onto its knees and immediately starts to dissipate into thin air.

That was your fourth titan takedown. Or maybe it was your fifth? It’s strenuous, both physically and mentally. Each time you get close enough to slice their napes, doubt pecks at you, beseeching you that you’re close enough for them to turn around and snatch you in their slimy, frightening mouths. 

But you have to be deadlier than them. And so far, your luck hasn’t run out. 

Loud, cathedral bells sound off in the distance, eliciting a strangled gasp out of your mouth.

The Southern Branch is signaling to all remaining soldiers to retreat back behind the inner walls. There’s no way this fight is already over. 

And yet, the sound of your recall rings over and over again. 

You wonder if this means that titans have already won.

Tapping both your canisters, you practically cry in frustration as you know you don't have enough gas to get back to safety.

You have to get as close to the outer wall as possible. Then, you can bring yourself to the top and safely run over. Springing into action, you start running across the rooftops, away from the incoming hordes of titans. You have to try to conserve as much resources as you can, but you need to get out of here. 

You hear a loud rumble up ahead and you’re distressed to see a parade of titans ahead of you. And to your right. And more to your left.

They’re boxing you in.

You’re not sure where you should even go at this point. 

“F/N!!”

No way. 

Elated at the familiarity, you strain your neck towards the sound of your name.

“Marco!”

The said teen is soaring in the air several rows behind you, lifting himself high over the buildings before cutting down a titan between your distance, clearing your path towards him. 

You’ve never felt so relieved to see your friend. Using some of your remaining precious gas, you hightail it towards him.

You soon land on a higher rooftop with Marco and notice that Jean and several other recruits from your training corps class are nearby. 

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” you say with a worn out smile to the dark-haired teen. He brushes your gratitude aside, stating that anyone would have done the same. He then returns to stand beside Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie and you feel relieved to see more recognizable faces. 

“You can withdraw your blades, there aren’t any titans nearby,” Jean says, acknowledging your presence. 

You look down at your rigid grip on both your swords, but you find that your fingers don’t want to let them go. “It’s fine. Holding onto them calms me.” Besides, if you do get ambushed, it’ll make you feel better knowing your weapons are already in your hands.

“We’re practically doomed at this point,” Jean continues. “ Reinforcements never came. They shut themselves inside the headquarters base and can’t bother to leave. Our chances of getting out of here are slim to none.”

His bleak assessment of your predicament only affirms your own perception and you wish you could find the reasoning to argue with him. 

Connie comes over to try and convince Jean otherwise, stating that the remaining cadets here should be enough to overtake some of the titans on the way to headquarters. He vehemently argued that staying put won’t do you all any favors. 

Dragging your sullen eyes over to Jean, you absorb his despondent demeanor and wait for the boy’s response. Any signs of his usual poise and haughty attitude are gone.

Jean’s rather scary when he’s serious, the fleeting thought crosses your mind.

This situation is so serious. 

You tune out Connie and Jean’s conversation and sweep your eyes around the scattered cadets around you. After graduating a mere day ago, here you all were, thrown into the depths of this fresh hell. You hear Sasha try to inspire more hope in her own squad who rests wistfully on the roof tiles. Her lively encouragement does nothing to revitalize their spirits.

Another piercing wail further down several rows of homes shakes the air. 

You clench your teeth as you know you can’t do anything to protect your remaining comrades. There’s not enough gas to siphon towards any rescue missions. 

You’ll just end up dead. 

Briefly, you wonder if society can ever recover from this cruel onslaught. 

It’s obvious that this is all so much worse than what any of you had thought.

You’re learning intimately how titans eat people. 

Dragging your eyes over to the struggling squads who have gotten caught out by the titans, you swallow dryly. 

Carelessly.

They eat people so carelessly.

* * *

What?

Eren got eaten?

You drop both your swords and hear them clatter sharply against the burnt orange, clay roof tiles.

Your brain can’t fully process the rest of the words spilling out of Armin’s mouth. You just watch him open and close his lips, not hearing anything else that comes out of them.

How? How could someone so strong, who carries so much purpose, just be wiped from the earth just like that?

Your eyes cast towards the ground as you feel what little motivation you recouped recently drained away, like the torrents of rain after a heavy storm. 

You tune out the murmurs of your comrades around you. All you can think about is how much of a waste it is for Eren not to be in this world anymore.

It’s merciless.

This whole situation is merciless.

“I’m strong. Stronger than all of you!” Mikasa shouts, breaking your stupor. 

She turns to address everyone with her steely, cool expression and proclaims boldly, “ You cowards can stay here and twiddle your thumbs while I fight the titans off.”

“Mikasa, what are you saying, there’s no way you can take on all of them,” the cadets fight over themselves, objecting to the bold soldier's hail.

“If I can’t do it, I die. But if I win, I live. I can’t win unless I fight,” she says. The logic in her words make absolute sense, but the crippling fright of your comrades riddle them to their slums, unable to uptake her decree.

“Watch me.” Her final words ring as a send off as she launches herself away from the stunned group. 

A tense lull replaces the air where she once stood.

"She's reckless but she's right," you say, breaking the silence.

You bend down to pick up your swords, gripping them until they fit perfectly in between the groves of your fingers.

You can’t let the deaths of all your comrades be in vain. It would be a complete disgrace of their sacrifices if you give up now. 

It would be a disgrace to Eren.

"You can either follow and fight to survive. Or you can sit here and die," you reiterate Mikasa’s call, as you turn and challenge your teammates.

“Make your decision.” 

You launch your hooks onto the next building and shoot off, chasing the powerful, audacious, and yet inspiring soldier.

Shortly after, you hear the whirls of numerous ODM gears and a roaring battlecry, indicating that the rest of your comrades chose to follow suit. 

As you chase after Mikasa, you’re alarmed to watch her move so brashly through the corridors of the roads, slicing through every titan in her path effortlessly.

You hear others praise her amazing feat and applaud her in awe, but you have never seen her so uncomposed. 

“She's using too much gas,” Armin says, articulating the concerns that swarmed in your head.

As if on cue, her gear exhaust sputters and she descends uncontrollably out of the air.

“MIKASA!” you yell along with your colleagues.

Your heart clutches as you watch her nose-dive out of the sky, sliding down a rooftop and falling in between two narrow buildings, presuming towards the ground.

“I’m going to her!” Jean exclaims, moving towards where she had fallen.

“No! Someone has to lead the others to headquarters. There’s still titans around,” Connie counters harshly, stopping his path. 

“F/N, come with me! Jean, you take that lead. We’ll meet you there,” the brazen soldier commands. 

You twist yourself towards the hesitant teen. “ Jean you got this. We’ll see you soon.”

Quickly, you and Connie reach Armin who shouted in the air that he located Mikasa.

Just as she pulls into your view, you’re horrified to see her stuck on the ground, sandwiched between two titans.

You’re too far away to get to her in time.

You blare at the top of your lungs at her to keep moving. Just when you thought she didn’t have any more chances, _one of the titans slams its fist into the other_.

It slams into the other titan so hard, half of its face flies off.

The stronger titan then repeatedly stomps its foot over and over into the remaining corpse and lets out a blood curdling scream. A sound so deafening, you have to slam your hands over your ears to ease the rattling of your drums.

Armin takes advantage of the opening, swooping down to grab and lift Mikasa onto the building where you just landed, Connie following shortly after.

“Wh-what the hell is that?” you stutter, unable to fully process what you just witnessed.

“Two 15 meter titans, we have to hurry!” Connie says, as he missed the initial battle. He gasps as he sees the stronger titan bring its fists up into what you can only bewilderedly describe as a fighting stance. It throws a powerful hook that completely knocks out its opponent. 

Even more bewildering, the stronger titan’s hands immediately regenerates and it intentionally stomps through the nape of the floundering titan below, defeating it.

“What the fuck,” is all you can manage to mutter as you watch the breast, utterly transfixed. It’s moving so deliberately. Almost familiarly.

“It knows how to deliver a final blow,” Armin’s voice strangles out as he sweeps the scene before him, gears turning in his head. 

“It’s an abnormal titan, we know so little of them. We have to hurry,” Connie says, trying to urge your group along. 

“No. It knows martial arts. It’s moves are intelligent,” Mikasa adds, shaking off her residual shock.

“It’s fighting other titans. We can possibly use it to our advantage,” Armin suggests, shining convicted eyes towards your group’s way.

Sparks flare in your heart, daring you to hope. A titan fighting against other titans? This is crazy. And yet, as each demolished creature falls, that glimmer of hope shines brighter and brighter.

You grip your weapons tightly.

You’re choosing to trust that hope today.

You turn and face Armin.

"Tell us what to do."

* * *

You don't believe your eyes.

You must still be in shock that you and your comrades were able to successfully overtake the titans at headquarters. Your blood has been pumping so fast, you’ve felt like you’ve been on the verge of a heart attack for hours. 

You rub your eyes.

Once.

Twice.

A third for good measure

The result is still the same.

How is the sight before you possible?

The rest of the cadets stand with you on the building rooftop, overlooking the scene below.

Is your mind delirious after fighting off more titans than you imagined possible?

But it's still there, no matter how much you try and deny it.

That for damn sure is Eren Yeager nesting inside the nape of the abnormal titan.

Once the shock wears off, you register Mikasa running to the ground to retrieve him. Her relieved cries tell you that Eren's alive. 

Holy hell he's _alive_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	8. Clean Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Execution and clean up.
> 
> A/N: **JUST WANT TO WARN THAT THE CORPSE DISPOSAL IS GRAPHIC AND MAY NOT BE SENSITIVE DURING COVID-19 TIMES.**  
>  Please stay safe and healthy everybody.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

There’s something powerful about standing on top of the walls.

Daring to lean your shoulder forward, you overlook the sea of giant monsters below that resemble humans with horribly disproportionate features. Their hands claw uselessly against the walls and their soulless eyes fixate on the row of soldiers that taunt them with their mere presence above.

You shudder as you swallow the acid rising in your throat. 

Hopefully you won’t have to stare at them for long. If all goes well, you will be able to eliminate the predators below and reclaim the fallen district. 

You reflect on Pixis’ speech earlier from the top of these walls, detailing the plan to seal the hole that’s allowing more and more titans to terrorize the city. He described how the military has been conducting classified experiments with titan technology and that Eren is the prime example of their progress. 

Secret government experiment huh? 

You don’t buy Pixis’ words. Not a word of these operations was uttered during your military training. However, analyzing this any further only brought a flood of questions about Eren and his abilities.

Curiosity begged you to ask how long he had been sitting on this power and why he hadn’t showcased it earlier. Regardless of the mystery at hand, you believe in Eren.

You have to at this point. The new squad you were assigned to is charged with following behind him and protecting the backline. 

You were already itching to go.

From the corner of your eye, the said brunette walks towards you with the Garrison’s Southern Commander, chatting by his side. A flutter drums in your chest at the sight of him, wanting to tug you into him. You’re still a little stunned that he’s walking and breathing, having defeated his own death. 

As the pair draw closer to you and your assigned squad, you almost pay them no heed, as you’re sure Commander Pixis has important words of wisdom to share with Eren. It would be insubordinate of you to interrupt. 

However, you witness doubt and worry fuse together and shine bright as day on Eren’s face. He scrunches his eyebrows even deeper, his stride stiffens, and he wraps both of his fists tightly by his sides. 

As Eren bypasses, you call out to him, but he ignores you.

You frown as you spin your gaze over to your squad leader. She has her back on you, so you take the chance to abandon your team and run to him before he gets too far ahead.

You shout his name again, this time snapping him out of his trance in time to see you approach.

Eren says your name slightly dazed as he glances around, “Where did you come from?”

There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to ask him how he was feeling. What the military was going to do with him. Whether he was safe. If he had always known he could turn into a titan.

Really, you just wanted to tell him how incredibly relieved you are that he’s _alive_. 

But as you search his flustered eyes that look strained against his clenched face, you read the immense anxiety and pressure behind them.

Instead of selfishly spilling your guts, you narrow your eyes, and reach up to grab one of his cheeks with your fingers and squeeze harshly.

“Ow!” Eren exclaims as he winces and instantly tries to yank your offending hand away.

"Oi," you grunt as you hold on tightly and pull his face closer towards yours.

His frenzied eyes lock onto your steady ones. 

"Don't fucking doubt yourself now."

Eren chokes out a blubber of words that sounded like faint excuses before you cut him off. 

“Promise me,” you say seriously.

You search his widened stunning green eyes, its radiance making you ease your grip into a soft pinch. Enraptured by his intensity, just as he is with your own ferocity. His apprehension eases as he searches your confident face and slowly absorbs your conviction, the rest of himself relaxing against your touch. The few seconds pass like eons, before he finally nods and you slip your hand away.

"See you on the other side Eren," you say with assuredness. You salute Commander Pixis with an apologetic face, nervous that you might get reprimanded, both for leaving your station and for dismissing him earlier. However, he just wears his usual grin that grows ever the slightest as he watches you hurry back towards your squad.

Peeking over your shoulder, satisfaction grows in your chest as Eren glares at the giant hole below and eyes his mission with nothing short of pure determination.

* * *

A single yellow flare explodes in the air.

Signaling that the breached hole in Trost district has been sealed.

You watch the speckles fizzle out and you swear you feel your pumping heart stop.

Screaming and shouts of victory surround you and vibrate your body, overtaking your senses. You don’t even recognize your own relieved cheers as you happily crowed along with the euphoric crowd.

If you didn’t watch Eren’s titan take the giant boulder and seal it yourself, you wouldn’t have believed it.

The entire operation was considerably more bleak in the beginning. His titan form initially appeared to go rogue, nearly crushing Mikasa in the process. The efforts almost got called off.

But he did it. 

He fucking did not.

No more titans can infiltrate the district. 

“Humanity won today,” Rico voices quietly besides you, kneeling onto the ground with tears in her eyes.

For the first time.

Humans have resisted for over a hundred years and finally discovered the taste of triumph today. 

Victory really is sweet. However, sadly short-lived.

The titans trapped in the district still persist and have been drawn to the tantalizing cluster of soldiers congregated near the entrance.

You bring yourself onto higher ground and feverishly scour to confirm that you’re utterly surrounded by the beasts who are ripe to pick at their options.

Just when you feel almost overpowered by titans, reinforcements arrive.

Baring the wings of freedom.

You watch enthralled as they expertly cut down titans, their forest green capes billowing behind them and sheer pride twinkling in their eyes.

Hearing a thunderous clamor to your right, you watch two titans each pluck a shrieking Garrison soldier off the ground, their pitches of distress clashing in disharmony. 

Expelling your gas, you quickly aim towards them, praying you can reach the soldiers before they meet their fate. Spinning yourself twice in the air, you fiercely strike down the first one, satisfied to see its nape destroyed and the man in its grasp set free. Before you can pivot mid-air to hopefully destroy the other in time, a flash zips by and beats you to it, striking down the beast easily.

Wonder reflects off your widened eyes as you watch the small, female soldier then help her comrade out of the dissipating titan’s grasp. She turns her golden-brown orbs your way, peering over her cape to catch you.

“Nice work, Rookie,” the woman says, wearing a pretty smile that matches her short, auburn hair.

“Thank you, Scout!” you eagerly smile back, heart glowing at her praise. For whatever reason, her praise warmed you more than any of your accolades during your training days.

As she soars away to help aid the other soldiers, you can’t help but be enraptured by her swift and clean movements that mirror her other comrades. 

Is this what it would mean to serve with the Scouts?

* * *

You overheard that Eren was being held on trial. Best case scenario, he would be working with the Scouts to advance what little information they have discovered about titans and their nature. Worst case, he would be handed over to the Military Police, who wouldn’t hesitate to execute him on the spot. 

You were relieved to hear later that Eren was given the chance to prove himself with the Survey Corps. 

You’re currently situated safely behind the inner wall of Trost, away from the remaining threats still left in the district. You’re grateful to finally catch a break after this whirlwind of a day. Looking around the unsettled crowd, rumors are flying off the mill about the recent events. 

Not wanting to feed into the buzzing anxiety, you push yourself off your makeshift seat and search the crowd for specific faces. Earlier, you had spotted Jean but unfortunately couldn’t reach him. Despite how loudly you shouted for him, the clamorous crowd muffled your calling and you watched dismayed as he got pushed further and further away from you. He was the first person you’ve seen from your class since Eren sealed the breach and you were hoping to be around company.

Being alone right now isn’t good for your overactive thoughts. 

Suddenly, you hear your voice shouted above the scuffling and your ears perk up.

“Krista!”

The cadet hurries over, with her usual taller shadow dragging behind.

“It’s good to see familiar faces,” you say as you approach both girls.

Krista abruptly launches herself into you, throwing both arms around your back.

“It’s been hours since I’ve last seen you F/N, I’m so happy you’re okay!” she chirps, instantly sending relief your way. You immediately reciprocate and hug her tightly, serotonin pouring into your senses. You mutter a quiet affirmation into her soft, flaxen hair that’s pressed against your chin.

As she moves to pull away, you instinctively clutch on tighter. 

"C-can I hold on a little longer?" you ask almost embarrassingly. You didn’t realize how much you needed human comfort in this moment.

“Of course, take as long as you like,” the benevolent female allows, settling herself back into your embrace.

The girl really is an angel.

Just as you are starting to feel more grounded and release your hold on Krista, you notice Ymir looking at you a little long. 

“You want in on this?” you ask Ymir as you display one arm out as an offer, a little unnerved by her prolonged staring.

“I’m not big on touch,” she responds before adding crudely, “You both need to toughen up.” Funny, those last words almost came off a little soft when they reached your ears.

Once you fully release Krista, she throws a mild glare at Ymir and chastises her for not understanding that everyone processes stress in different ways. 

They play out their usual short-lived bicker back and forth and a thought brushes through your mind.

“Have either of you seen Marco?”

Turning towards you, they both shake their heads regrettably. You convince yourself that he’s probably fine, and brush off a nagging feeling. 

“I haven’t seen most of our friends.” Krista says, echoing your next thoughts. 

“Well, not everyone made it,” Ymir says. “Don’t get too attached,” she tells the shorter female, who fervently defends herself. 

Ignoring Ymir’s warning to Krista against attachment, you still felt the burning urge to see Eren. You wonder when that would be.

“We’re gonna scout around and check in on everyone, okay F/N?” Krista lets you know, throwing a pair of concerned eyes your way. She probably wants to make sure you won’t feel alone in their absence.

You nod and tell them to hurry along, knowing that others would be happy to see Krista. She scurries along with your unneeded blessing.

Before Ymir passes you, she twists her upper body to squeeze your shoulder tightly, lingering for an extra moment to hold your gaze. You swear her sharp, dark orbs soften just the slightest before she releases you to leave with Krista.

* * *

After a long two days, you've all succeeded in securing Trost. You’ve almost developed a sick sense of satisfaction killing titans. Every time a cannonball explodes into their bodies, you watch vindicated as their corpses then shrivel up under the sun. 

Not all your comrades made it, and you had to tune out the few screams of horror from soldiers who weren’t able to escape in time. You get why Eren wants to kill every last one of them. In those moments, you wished for them all to be destroyed too. 

But then came the even harder part.

The residents are only allowed to return after you properly remove and dispose of the human bodies. Having corpses decompose out in the open will only spread diseases to the living. 

The white handkerchief tied around the bottom of your face does little to mask the smell, but is necessary to protect yourself from any potential illnesses you’ll catch from handling the bodies so closely.

As you help shovel the scrapes of what remains of these souls, you grimace at the wagon of collected cadavers. There’s so many. None of which will ever receive proper burials by their remaining families. The military instructed that the remains be burned immediately to contain the spread.

So quickly, they’ve been reduced to merely vessels for pathogens.

The nurse you were assigned to for your body recovery team was so efficient, she seemed cruel. But that’s the nature of this work. When you dawdled, trying to carefully pluck and return every personal card back into purses and wallets respectfully, she barked at you to keep moving and snatched the possessions hastily out of your hands to toss into her identification box. 

“We have to move quickly so the citizens can return,” she had said matter-of-factly before directing you further along.

You don’t hold any ill will of her for reminding you of your duties. 

After completing a row of bodies, you’ve become alarmingly adept at skimming through government documents and ignoring all other precious mementos in the wallets. You just stack them on top of each other in your hands, as you cradle them down your walk. 

With only one body left in this alley, you’re almost done with this part of town.

Bending down, you observe the bottom half of a corpse that was haphazardly thrown against a crumbled home. Though the sight is abominable, you feel numb to the gore as you slip your two fingers into its right pocket.

You pull out a worn, black wallet and when you open it, multiple cards fly out with its release. Sighing, you bend down to shove the papers back in until you read the name on one of the small pieces.

Isiah Manthell. Blacksmith.

It can’t be.

The air sucks out of your throat. Whipping your eyes back onto the mangled body, your head spins as you figure out why you recognized the name. 

This is the stranger from the bar. Who was supposed to take you out the day of the breach.

 _Was._

Bile rises in your throat and you wheeze as you rip your eyes away from his incomplete corpse.

“Cadet, has this area been cleared?” your nurse asks you, turning the corner to check in.

Slipping his business card back, you gingerly fold Isaiah’s wallet together and grip it tightly.

Up until now, all the remains were unknown names to you, so it was simpler to shove their humanity aside in exchange for efficiency. But reaching a body you met before, interacted with, _talked to_ , reminded you all this flesh was once human. 

Reminding you that death is normal and expected under the constant threat of titans. 

_Stay strong, soldier_ , you command yourself. It’s a cruel reality that you have to continue persevering in.

Turning towards her, you nod as you report, “Yes. Five bodies accounted for.”

You flip through the wallets to list out the names of the people you found while the nurse scribbled the information down onto her clipboard. Your voice chokes when you read off Isaiah’s name. 

“Excellent, let’s continue.”

You gently put the pile of wallets away in her containment bin and take a shaky breath, knowing you’re not nearly close to finishing these recovery efforts.

She quickly hurries down another long, gravel path and as you follow her, you wonder what hell she had to endure to come out with such rigid professionalism. 

When you round a corner together, you hear your name called. 

Further down the street, Jean begins sprinting towards you with a deeply grievous look in his eyes.

“Jean?” 

“Don’t go this way,” Jean insists as he takes both your shoulders and shoves you away from the path so quickly that you stumble a couple steps.

“What? Why?” you ask, confused by his rough actions.

“...Marco didn’t make it.”

Your heart plummets.

“Wh-what?” you choke out.

Your head spins wildly. Did you hear him correctly? He doesn’t mean, like didn’t _make it_ , make it right?

You search Jean's face for clarity, but he just shakes his head as light fades from his usual vivacious eyes. 

And in that instant you knew.

Tears start to flow and you grip one hand over your heart that grinds painfully against the stampede of aches in your chest. The other shoots towards your mouth, forgetting about the cloth in place. 

“Jean…” you trail off, as your throat closes involuntarily, making your breaths harder and harder to catch. 

“We have to keep clearing this road, soldier,” another nurse comes into view, ushering for Jean to follow her.

“I’ll catch you later,” he mutters quietly and you don’t get the chance to respond before he follows his summon.

Allowing your distress to roll down your cheeks, your heart breaks even more as your eyes trail Jean's walk. 

Steps that carry the semblance of an empty shell.

* * *

Death feels so standardized.

It’s been a blur of identifying and tagging bodies to shoveling them into wagons to then be burned. 

You watch the mountain of smoldering corpses, as a sour smell fills the air. 

An inconsolable sadness fills you once more as you think about how remaining families will never get to see or say goodbye to their loved ones. It’s probably for the better that they aren’t subject to seeing the trauma their bodies sustained during their last resistance.

But is this what humanity has to normalize now?

You’ve gotten almost comfortable with the peace from titans since Maria’s fall. 

These last few days was a harsh reminder that those beasts can break through the walls at any moment’s notice and destroy precious lives without any hesitation. 

Can you ever truly feel safe in a world that’s threatened by a titan attack at a moment’s notice?

You question whether it’s right for you to continue your path as before.

“I’m joining the Survey Corps.”

Everyone’s eyes turn to the declarant. 

“Jean, are you sure?” Bertholdt asks, dragging his wary eyes away from the burning pile to the other male. 

Jean nods firmly, even though the rest of his body shakes uncontrollably. 

As the fires rage on, charring the remaining carcasses to a crisp, licks of ember crackle in the air that create light pops, decorating it with sizzles.

Jean turns to address you more privately. 

“F/N, you should do what’s right for you. But me….I can’t keep living like a coward. Not when the stakes are this high,” he shares.

You hold his gaze and nod in understanding.

_Marco….you have no idea how you have changed Jean._

The burning flames greedily swallow the remains and you silently pray to the universe for peace with these souls. 

_How you have changed all of us._

* * *

The next day, you and Jean wake up early. 

The evacuees slowly reentered their homes in the district. Several shops opened their doors, almost like business as usual.

You found a floral shop that only sustained a few crushed windows that was otherwise operational. You waited patiently in line behind several other patrons. By the time you make it to the counter, you meet the florist’s haggard eyes with your own.

“Two bouquets of lilies please,” you request. 

He hands you both arrangements and you pay him extra without collecting the change.

Stepping out of the shop, you give the second pair to Jean who clutches it tightly in one hand. 

Silently, you both pad down the cobblestone street, stained shades of pink as harrowing remainders of the recent tragedies. Will it ever wash away? Or will the remaining citizens of Trost be reminded every day of the terror they barely escaped?

And then you remembered once more that Jean is a citizen of Trost.

Peeking over your shoulder, you try not to stare at him too long, wanting to give him the illusion of privacy in observing his town. You were immensely relieved to hear that his family remained unscathed, and have already moved back into their home only to find minor damages.

Many others weren’t as fortunate.

Your feet stop in front of a crushed wall that already has a few boards up, superficially covering the damage.

Jean drops down onto both knees and places his bouquet exactly in the spot where he discovered Marco. You swiftly follow, gently depositing the blooming, white lilies. 

Silently, you both bow deeply to show respect for your fallen friend.

As you lift yourself out of your pose, pain grips your core once more as you notice the dark stains in the wood. You try not to think about the state of Marco’s body when Jean found him.

It feels wrong for you and him to be here without Marco. Your trio spent nearly every day and every meal together these past three years. Thinking about how you’ll never again see your kind friend’s cheery face or be around his calm demeanor deeply augments the hole in your heart. 

It hurts you even more when you realize how Marco was extremely competent. What does this mean when even a top cadet like himself could still be wiped out by titans, without anyone even noticing?

He doesn’t deserve this. To die alone, without anyone knowing what truly happened to him during his last moments.

You both stay at this makeshift memorial for Marco for what seemed like hours. Making your own peace with this immense loss. You wound up kneeling next to the site and your shins are almost numb from being pressed against the coarse, uneven pavement. 

Several other close comrades stopped by later in the morning in waves, each offering their own condolences that they pour in Marco’s honor. It felt cathartic, remembering him. Holding onto Sasha’s hands as they squeezed yours tightly, laughing at the sillier times you all had with Connie, hearing revered words from Mikasa, and leaning into Reiner’s comfort as he declares that the titans will pay for this. One by one, they eventually solemnly left, offering to cover you and Jean’s duties back at headquarters today.

Jean chooses to stand throughout the entire time, the sheer will of that boy. You know he wants to stay as long as he can.

In an impossible way to make it up to his friend for not being there for his death.

As the sun starts to crawl away, stealing its remaining rays with it, you stand up pushing past the numbness in your legs before addressing your remaining friend.

“We have to go,” you urge gently, with a light hand on his shoulder.

The resilient teen wipes away his tears and nods as he turns to follow your lead.

Life has to go on.

* * *

“Jean, are you really going to join the Survey Corps?” Armin asks the approaching teen, who nods confidently.

“ I thought you were hellbent on the Interior?” Sasha asks, before looking down towards her shoes in mild shame, “ I mean...aren’t you afraid?”

You lean against the wall, standing between her and Armin, patiently waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

“I never said I wasn’t scared. Obviously, I don’t like the Scouts Regiment. And I’m not like that suicidal maniac or anything,” Jean says, gripping his hips with his hands. “ It’s just….,” he trails off, “I’m not going to lecture you about how skilled soldiers have a duty to join the Scouts or anything like that.”

“Did you get hit in the head and knock a few things loose up there?” Connie adds humorlessly. 

You muster enough spirit to quirk one edge of your mouth, but no one else’s face budge. Everyone’s energy is just so low today. 

“Nobody convinced me. This isn’t the kind of job you can do without choosing it yourself,” Jean replies.

“We have to decide what our role is going to be in this fight,” you add for him, crossing your arms. Armin looks at you like he wants to say something, but keeps his mouth closed.

Before you can continue your conversation, your attention is drawn to a loud call from the platform at the front of the stage.

A tall, sturdy man stands up there, proudly wearing the wings of freedom crest on his jacket, as he addresses each and every cadet on the ground.

Erwin Smith, the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps Regiment. 

His authority forcibly captivates the crowd, as he blatantly admits that after you barely survived the recent titan attack, he is asking for you all to find the courage within yourselves to willingly face them again.

For the sake of chasing after the knowledge of learning more about their nature to advance humanity’s resistance.

“I’ll be blunt, I am extending an invitation to each of you to consider joining the Scout Regiment,” Erwin states.

“Truthfully, the mortality rate in the Scouts is high, far too high to ignore. However, we now have Eren Yeager with us, who is unquestionably by our side. Additionally, we have reason to believe the basement of his old home in Shiganshina hosts secrets about titans that he even isn’t aware of,” the Commander allows the crowd to gasp as they intake this promising information.

“We have plans to take back Wall Maria in this process. However, you should know that in the last four years alone, we have lost 60% of our soldiers. Our next expedition will be in a few short months, where I estimate 30% of you will not survive.”

You swallow a dry lump in your throat as you listen intently to the Commander, in charge of so many lives. The man who is responsible for many more that will be lost.

He is not here to sugarcoat anything. Reality is too dire for that. 

“I ask you, if you are willing to put your life on the line for this. For the chance of a real fight against titans. If you are willing to give yourself for the sake of humanity!”

His powerful words ring in your ear. You grit your teeth and wrap your fists into tight balls by your thighs. Your heart pounds so viciously, it heats your ears.

He dismisses you all, except those who are still willing to join the Scouts.

A moment of silence passes, where you are left to wonder the choices of your colleagues.

Then, one pair of legs pivot into the ground to move away. Followed by more and more bodies, which culminates into a thunderous sound of a shuffling away from the stage. Quickened footsteps pace by with the promise of distance from the frontlines. Anxiety and fear lace the air and you can’t help but let it seep into you, casting doubt on your decision. 

Your legs twitch to follow them.

It would be so easy to assimilate into the horde and walk away from this madness.

Daring to look around, you see the crowd dwindle into pathetic numbers.

You see Jean's sullen face turn more glum as he stays put in his spot. As he promised.

You witness Sasha crossing her arms into a scout's salute, with hasty tears streaming down her cheeks.

You watch as Connie's face shows utter bewilderment but stubbornly stays planted. 

You’ve thought long and hard about this decision these past several days, slow-cooking it inside and out. What would be the point of joining the Military Police if humanity keeps losing these walls? Not a single MP Officer dared show their face during these operations. Not one of them dared to fight against those terrifying beasts or risk their lives to defend their citizens.

The Trost attack highlighted the imminent threat of titans and their easy destruction of society. Choosing not to fight on the frontlines that are barely able to hold them at bay somehow seems more selfish. 

You’re not the kind of person to turn your back on your people when they need it. Witnessing Eren transform and work with military forces to execute your first win against titans made you ache for the truth.

Ultimately, there will be no justice without that truth. 

An undeniable seed of doubt casts itself into the deep crevasses of your mind, and you have to ask yourself its imperative question. 

Would you be able to die if you were told to?

Closing your eyes, you shut out the rest of the shuffle and beg your knees to stop shaking.

Scowling, you relive your past thoughts about how you value your life. 

You don’t want to die.

But you also can't bear to keep living like titans don't threaten to collapse civilization at a moment's notice.

You would be naïve to think otherwise.

Which means you’ll just have to endure for as long as you can and hope to high heavens your life mattered in this cruel world. 

_Always keep your eyes forward_ , the words creep into your mind again, serving as a final ring of validation.

This is the path forward.

You’re convinced of it.

There’s no turning back now. 

“Welcome to the Survey Corps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	9. Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Some mishaps happen during Eren’s experiments and a few senior leaders take notice of something a little more concerning. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

It feels strange for you to step onto the Survey Corps headquarters.

Over the last couple of days, you familiarize yourself with the facilities, from bonding with your horse in its stable to navigating the long corridors that host the rest of the soldiers in the regiment. The campus is further away from the more congregated cities. As such, it is surrounded by lush meadows and visions of greenery similar to that which you grew up with. The forest also stands nearby, offering plenty of natural habitat to continue your training as you learn from the best of the Scouts.

This is your new home.

At least you’re not alone. Twenty-two other brave ~~idiot~~ souls dared to join this branch. Most of the top ten cadets gave up the privilege of their spots to enlist in this branch. Even Reiner and Bertholdt decided to join your fight. The only top trainee who isn’t here is Annie. Not surprising, as she was very clear about her intentions since the start. 

Today’s classroom lesson was spent reviewing the expeditionary search formation devised by your awfully charismatic and authoritative Commander. As Captain Ness explains where the new soldiers will stay in the formation and the dangers it will and will not protect you from, you try not to think about how your life is now another pawn for your Commander to place without your complete say. 

Jean listens intently next to you without jotting down any notes while you furiously scribble to keep up with Ness’ quick words. You have always been a little envious that he can just sit and absorb lessons without the need to review any written words later. He wasn’t your favorite study partner, that’s why you preferred your usual buddy.

You nearly drop your pen at the thought.

Marco.

Neither you nor Jean have talked much about him since that day. It would only hurt Jean if you were the one to bring him up, so you’ve chosen to swallow that pain around your friend. You can always talk to the others if you need to. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you refocus on the details that are being spilled out in the front of the classroom. 

It isn’t long before the entire cadet class is dismissed for the evening. You tag near the back of the group, listening to everyone’s chatter as they discuss their new lives within their official military branch. 

“Everyone!”

You stop in your tracks at the familiar voice. A voice you have been yearning to hear since you entered the grounds.

Looking forward, your face lights up when you see Eren nearly flying towards your group, with his back towards you.

Armin and Mikasa immediately rush into his space. Armin greets him with immense delight while Mikasa rapid-fires out questions. You pick up an angrily placed “shorty” from the girl and you swear you feel her energy chill the air around you.

“I can’t believe you’re all here. Did you really join the Scouts?” Eren asks, hesitantly shuffling his gaze among your dear comrades.

“Is there any other reason why we’re here?” Connie answers, with additional shine in his round, bright hazels. 

“Does that mean F/N, Jean, Marco, and Annie went to the Military Police?” Eren continues, almost with a hint of disappointment. 

Jean pushes himself ahead of your group to answer his question. 

“Marco’s dead,” he announces, which instantly drains the enthusiasm off Eren’s face.

“Marco’s dead? What are you talking about…,” his voice trails off, averting his disbelief towards other members who refuse to meet his eyes. 

“Not everyone gets to have a dramatic death. He died where no one saw him or noticed anything,” Jean continues in a flat tone. 

Eren stays silent and your friends each take their turn in gazing uncomfortably at the ground in sorrow. 

Stepping out of the crowd, you finally enter into Eren’s view. 

“You missed his memorial. We can visit it again the next time we’re back in Trost,” you offer.

As the copper-haired teen backs off, Eren turns towards you flabbergasted. 

“F/N?” he eyes you up and down, almost unable to comprehend that you’re standing before him. “What are you doing here?”

“Jean talked me into it,” you lie, averting Eren’s wonderous scrutiny. Easier than explaining your recent change in mindset.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to follow me here,” Jean snips with a smirk, “ Didn’t realize you would be so lonely without me.”

“I didn’t join to follow you dipshit,” you practically hiss at your friend. Although, you’re happy to hear a little snicker escape him. Talking about Marco has been especially difficult for him.

Eren looks between you two bewildered. He opens his mouth at you but is abruptly interrupted. 

“Oi! Your uniforms are here, come get them!” Captain Ness shouts, showcasing orderly piles of the deep, green capes.

The crisscrossing blue and white feathers stared back at you brilliantly when you gathered yours. Throwing it over your shoulder, you fasten the thick garment around your neck in one swoop. You grip the edges of the soft uniform in your hands and squeeze the fabric reassuringly.

Even a week ago, you wouldn’t have imagined you would touch these colors and symbols of freedom.

But now, your heart swells as you wear them proudly.

* * *

“So it’s true, you don’t remember attacking Mikasa,” Jean states directly, bypassing the girl's meek objections to the truth.

You halt your repetitive cycle of refilling your pile of reserve gas canisters to listen more closely to their heated conversation. You’ve been getting pretty bored of twisting and untwisting the valves.

Eren casts his eyes shamefully on the ground, as guilt transpires on his face for nearly killing his sister. He doesn’t deny his heated comrade’s words.

“That means you didn’t know about your titan abilities nor have complete control over them,” Jean extrapolates as he continues to berate Eren who can only nod in confirmation.

“It’s the top priority right now,” Eren shares candidly. 

“Do you hear that everyone? This is what we may be giving our lives for,” the frank soldier continues, catching every pair of eyes in the room that begin to waver with the sinking realization of the conditions you are fighting against.

“Jean, what’s the point of putting Eren on the spot like this?” Mikasa defends.

“Well, Mikasa. Not all of us are as quick to die for Eren like his family is,” Jean calls out the dynamic difference among you, silencing her protests. “We need something in return for putting our lives on the line.” 

Suddenly, he strides up to Eren without warning, latching both hands onto his shoulders. 

A gasp collects in the supplies basement, and both Reiner and Bertholdt inch forward in case they have to intervene.

“So, we’re really counting on you, understand?” Jean openly shakes from his vulnerability, squeezing Eren’s shoulders in a vice-like grip that wrinkles his sleeves.

Eren pales at the public call out that reminds him of his massive future responsibility and stutters out a confirmation. The taller cadet has yet to let go. 

“Alright, give Eren a break. I’m sure he’s well aware of the pressure the entire Survey Corps puts on him,” you say, stepping in to squeeze Jean’s nearest elbow harshly. “We don’t need to add any more to that.”

Jean rips his intense gaze away from Eren, but not before scoffing as he returns to restocking precious supplies. The brunette darts a grateful look your way before he swallows and tucks his head back towards his own work. 

The rest of the evening ends quietly as each newly inducted cadet finishes their tasks of the day. Most of your colleagues have left and Krista asks if you’re going to hurry up and join them for dinner.

“I’m almost done. You all go ahead first,” you say topping off your finished canister and pointing to your last two.

“Would you like help? You took on the larger pile,” she says, already reaching for one of them. You push both empty containers out of her reach and insist that you’re fine, urging her to hurry along. 

“Eren, you coming?” Armin asks the only other person who’s loitering around.

“I’ll meet you up there,” he responds, sitting down to tinker with some of the supplies. Armin slides a sly look between you and Eren before he latches a hand onto Mikasa’s wrist and practically drags her up the steps, talking her ear off about something you can’t make out. 

When it’s just the two of you, Eren strolls over and picks up one of your remaining canisters before plopping himself next to you. 

“Hey, I said I got this,” you nearly pout, attempting to grab at the item he stole.

“We’ll both get to dinner faster if I help,” he says, twisting himself so all you ended up swiping for was the bottom of his white shirt. 

Sighing, you release your efforts and concede, letting the stubborn teen assist your remaining chore. 

You work together silently before you speak the words you've been wanting to express to him for days.

“How are you feeling?” 

Eren pauses the refilling briefly to exhale a loud sigh and runs a hand slowly through his chestnut hair. 

“Okay, I think. There’s a lot of people expecting a lot from me,” he admits, stiffening his shoulders. “ I didn’t imagine that so many of our classmates would join the Survey Corps. I hope I don’t make them regret their decisions,” his voice trails off as worry starts to take place. 

You stop your own gas for a moment. Reflecting on Jean’s earlier words, you admire how he always tells it as it is. Personally, you welcome that candor in your life. But looking at Eren’s crumbling face, you recognize that such brutally honest words aren’t easily forgotten. 

“We're practically all bonded by this shared trauma at this point. Of course we were going to join you,” you say, hoping to offer clarity to so many of your comrade’s choices. 

“I guess. I mean, I’m also surprised that you’re here. You seemed so set on what you wanted to do with the Brigade,” Eren says, unable to keep his features from twisting with concern.

“Well,” your pause lingers in the air. “ A lot has changed to put me here.”

Fighting those hideous, terrifying beasts. Taking back Trost. Losing Marco. 

Remembering the fear from that day. That peace is delicate and a privilege you must fight for.

“Humanity now has you, Eren.” You turn towards him with kinder eyes, not wanting your words to act as further pressure on the titan-shifter. However, he still looks guilty throughout your conversation. 

Frowning, you reiterate to him more strongly, “I wanted to join. Don't weigh my choices on your conscience. You know I don’t half-ass anything."

A short, light chuckle exhales from his lips but his eyes still look heavy with burden. You wonder if he’s also worn out from keeping up a strong front around his superiors all week. 

Unsure if you were doing this for your own comfort or his, you briefly lean your head onto his shoulders, nudging him as you speak.

"We're in this together Eren. Remember that."

The boy stiffens a little under your unexpected touch. He hesitantly returns the contact, pressing the side of his cheek against your head, careful not to disturb your positioning. You feel him breathe deeply, a puff that barely tickles your scalp.

“Okay,” he says once more into the humid air of this cellar. 

There’s a comfortable pause between you and you’re reminded of how much you enjoy his company. 

You break the silence with a loud rumbling from your stomach. Jolting your body back as if you were electrocuted, an embarrassing smile curls up your lips. 

“Let’s hurry and leave,” you say, going back to filling your last container. Once it’s done, you set it inside the crate you're sitting on while Eren does the same. 

Both of you quickly move towards the stairs, and he turns to you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Eren says.

"Me too."

* * *

These last few weeks of practice and conditioning have been nothing like the training corps.

These Scouts knew how to run you _ragged_.

Your drills aimed to double your endurance and honed more specific techniques in taking down various titans. They were also designed towards improving your lethality. 

As you have become acquainted with the other more senior Scouts, their experience shows just how obviously adept they are. Many loved to share their stories about the unpredictability of titans and how most had barely escaped by the skin of their teeth, but they retold those words with pride. You heard that the average Scout is stronger than even the top soldiers in the Garrison and the Brigade and it clearly shows.

What you hadn’t expected was seeing how these front line soldiers carried themselves with a deep sense of authenticity in their faith in humanity and purpose with the Survey Corps. 

So, you wanted to prove yourself. 

Prove that you’re strong enough to be of use outside these walls.

Because the weak won’t live long enough to even come back. 

You swallowed an uncomfortable lump as you mulled over the grim matter. 

Maybe that’s the reason why you spurred yourself on so intensely when the rigorous parts of your training picked up. 

You can’t fathom the idea of falling behind and becoming a burden. 

Captain Levi and his squad were here to observe the newer recruits today. The smaller stature of that man does nothing to ease his intimidating aura. Neither does the sharp and quick manner he uses to call out all your faults. While other cadets were discouraged that Levi had so much to correct when he opened his mouth, it only galvanized you to keep pushing yourself to be better. Striving for the day when he has nothing more to say about your skills. 

It doesn’t make you feel any less daunted by the dubbed Humanity’s Strongest though. Maybe it’s from your own bias, knowing that he is tasked with overseeing Eren. Meaning, if he is perceived as a threat, Levi will take care of it. You doubt that getting rid of Eren was truly a viable option for the Scouts, but his powers are still so new and erratic.

Eyeing where you wanted to slice your blades, you drop yourself as low as you can before cutting through, carrying your momentum into the next series of targets. With your legs almost skimming the ground, you release even more gas as you pull yourself up just enough to sever the spots you needed. 

Finally, you made it through this ridiculously long course.

However, your body’s force barrels you past the remaining tree in the sectioned off arena, thus you no longer had any structure to launch your tethers to oppose your velocity. 

So you fall.

Not more than a couple feet off the ground, but you’re still hurling in a parallel way towards it. 

Gulping, you realize you don't have enough time to sheath your swords, do you quickly detach the blades so they can fumble out of your way. After, you tuck yourself into a ball to roll onto the ground as the next best measure. 

Then, you hear a sickening pop. 

Oh. That can’t be good. 

Finally, after tumbling several feet past the Scout leaders, you groan as you sit up and hold your dizzying head. The rest of your body throbs from the harsh impact and your uniform is soiled with mud, caked with strands of grass and weeds. 

"F/N!" Sasha is the first to call out, running towards you with notable alarm in her honey hues. 

Cursing, you push yourself to stand up from your spot, only to crumple towards the ground again once you put weight on your left foot. Your hands fly to your ankle that stings, shooting currents of pain up and down your scuffed up leg.

"Oi, you were too fast out there," Jean criticizes once he arrives with the rest of the group.

“Still beat you though,” you choke out a small smirk, knowing that time was a huge weight in today’s assessment, to which he scoffs. 

"Are you alright?" Eren asks, moving towards you but is cut off by Captain Ness. 

“Cadet L/N, what were you thinking moving so recklessly? You completely missed your final anchorage point out there,” he scorns. You cast your eyes towards the ground in shame and draw your lips into a thin line. You mutter a soft apology, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“Remove your boot so we can see the damage,” Eld orders to which you comply. He then bends down to examine your swelling ankle and you scowl at how quickly it’s beginning to bruise. 

“Jean and Eren, you two are up next. Let’s continue with training while they take care of this,” Ness says, leading the rest of your allies away. Eren throws one last look of concern your way, before following as he was told. 

At least your comrades won’t have to continue throwing pity vibes your way. However, your embarrassment never eases as you know you’re losing face in front of Levi’s special operations squad. You can’t escape all their prying. 

“It doesn’t look broken, but with the expedition coming up, there’s no use in further worsening your injury,” Olou says, crossing his arms, pulsing his lips together into a scowl.

You sigh at the suggestion. This is so incredibly lame. You can make it through the entire goddamn titan attack but not a simple endurance test? 

“I-I’m fine,” you say in your best convincing manner.

“Not really,” Eld counters. You wince and bite back a yelp when he twists your ankle back and forth, clearly unconvinced.

“It’s swelling like a bloated balloon,” Captain Levi points out, obviously displeased.

Your heart cripples with disappointment at the respected veteran’s tone. It was a mistake not to be more careful. 

“You need to rest,” Petra says in a stern enough manner that makes you swallow your argument. You were delighted to see the woman again since Trost, but she really does mean business.

“Head to the nurse’s ward. Tomorrow, we’ll assign you office work to do instead,” Levi instructs, gliding his hard, dark eyes over yours.

Sighing, you pull on your boot gingerly as you try your best to hide your displeasure with being temporarily set to the side. 

“Yes, Captain,” you say, bringing both your arms into a Scout’s salute. Once dismissed, you again try to hide your wincing as you slowly limp away. You miss out on the next part of the soldiers’ conversation, once they return to Ness.

“Careless,” Levi mumbles. He takes a peek over Ness’ shoulder at his clipboard, used to evaluate the rookies. “But she’s fast. One of the deadlier ones here,” he adds, reviewing your numbers. 

“I’ve seen her take down titans. She’s a natural,” Petra vouches, her eyes glowing as she traces your retreating form.

* * *

Stifling back a snicker, you watch Eren slam Jean back into the ground as the latter snarls up at the brunette.

You’ve been internally gambling who would win each tussle and you’ve nearly called each one correctly. To be fair, you’ve just been betting on Eren, unless he’s up against Mikasa or Reiner. 

Not that you have been in favor of observing one of your comrades over the others.

Your ankle throbs in its cast again, so you shift your stance around, moving your weight between your legs. At least it's not bad enough for you to be on crutches. 

For now, you can only engage in upper-body strength training, as any additional heavy pressure on your foot still agitates your injury. However, that doesn’t take more than an hour. Throughout the rest of the morning, you just stand next to your instructor, envious that you can’t partake in the day’s combat training. Even though the Scouts have no need to perfect close combat, the muscles that conditioning targets directly helps strengthen your ODM skills.

Yesterday, they placed you into administrative duties, helping Hange sort through mountains of paperwork that’s been gathering dust on their desk. Lord, that individual is brilliant but a madperson. Even though Moblit warned you not to get them started on theories about titans, your curiosity got the best of you and you opened your nosy mouth.

Resulting in Hange talking for _seven straight hours_. With minimal breaks. Never before have you been so impressed and yet so drained your brain feels hollow. 

Today, Hange has been busy with meetings all morning, leaving you here to observe your mates before they whisk you away for their next tasks. 

You’re hoping your ankle fully heals by the end of this upcoming weekend. Nothing against Hange personally but you would take the training field over their piles of research any day. 

As if on cue, Hange emerges onto the field and calls for Eren, who disengages from his opponent. 

“I’ll be running Eren’s experiments the rest of the day. Prepare yourself to see some extraordinary feats,” they say, grinning ear to ear at the approaching cadet.

“Oh! I’m coming too?” your eyes widen, trying not to exude too much excitement.

“It’ll be good to have an extra pair of eyes,” Hange says. “And notes,” they add, throwing you an extra pad and pen which you barely catch in time. 

A light flutter carries through your chest. You get to watch Eren transform and work his titan!

“Ah, F/N is joining us,” Eren realizes, catching the tail end of your conversation. 

“Delighted to,” you confirm with a grin. “How have his experiments been going so far?” you ask Hange, curious how the leaders are viewing his progress. Eren shares as much as he can during dinner with you all, but sometimes he’s too exhausted to give specific details, and you’ve been itching to know. 

“Eren has shown signs of improvement in terms of his mobility, dexterity, and endurance. The chances of him entering his titan stage completely feral has dropped to 10%, compared to 30% from a mere week ago,” Hange reports, the shine in their eyes positively radiant.

“Oh, that’s not bad,” you say, smirking at the boy who looks away, a little embarrassed. “Gotta get that down to zero right? Tick tock,” you joke, wagging your pointer finger mockingly.

“Tch. What was all that talk before about not giving me extra pressure?” Eren scoffs, crossing his arms over each other.

“Hmm. Better impress me out there then,” you challenge, with a lively tint in your eyes.

“I will,” he replies with a crooked smile, missing a side-eye from the squad leader.

* * *

You yelp out as your injury flares with pins and needles and you drop back onto the ground.

Cursing at yourself, you didn’t realize your foot had fallen asleep, exponentially amplifying the blast of pain that implodes your ankle when you finally moved from your rigid position. 

Maybe your nerves haven’t fully gained their functions back.

“Cadet L/N, are you alright? Don’t move so suddenly while you are still recovering!” Petra states firmly.

Looking up, you smile sheepishly at the elite female, “Yes, I’m fine. Please give me a moment to shake this off.”

Suddenly, the ground below you shakes violently. 

Alarmed, you and the other Scouts trace the tremors to watch in fright as Eren’s Titan form is full on _sprinting_ down the field towards you all.

The color in your face pales. Has he gone rogue again? 

You desperately search for the captain responsible for subduing the shifter. Your apprehension only grows when you realize the path Eren is taking does not have any trees. Levi runs desperately behind him, with traces of horror on his face. 

“We have to move, now!” Gunther instructs urgently.

Panic spreads across the squad as they watch the distance shorten alarmingly between them and the beast. The soldiers all instantly dart towards the trees and deploy their hooks once they are close enough to fly away from the perceived incoming danger. They bring their swords out once on top of the thick branches, ready to restrain Eren with their captain's word. 

You try to move your body, but you can only drag your aching leg so quickly. Also, you’re not equipped with your gear, as you wouldn’t be able to fully handle it in your state.

“We can protect you from higher ground!” Petra shouts, guilt flashing across her face as she is the last to leave you at your spot.

You sit there and watch as the Titan advances closer and closer, feeling the atmosphere draw taut with each step. As the powerful being approaches, you drop your pen and notebook, and instinctively bring both your arms up as an insignificant way to brace for any incoming impact.

However, Eren stops a mere couple of meters in front of you, peering down at your body that is so tiny in comparison to his beast. Shock spreads across your face as your brain churns upon itself. 

“E-Eren? What are you doing here?” you croak out.

He drops one knee down to kneel in front of you, shuddering the ground. Then, he extends his left palm out with his fingers pointing towards the sky.

Widening your eyes, your mind slowly processes what this means. Did he hear your cry of pain all the way over on the other side of the field?

Although his Titan stands before you, close enough to crush you with a mere swipe of his mighty fists, you strangely don’t feel the clutching grip of panic that’s suffocating the air. 

“Stay back Cadet L/N, I need to cut him out!” Levi declares as he hooks himself into Eren’s nape and flings himself up towards his wide shoulders. 

Never, would you consider disobeying a direct order from a captain, but this begs to differ.

“No, stop!” you shout just as Levi heaves himself into the sky, ready to drive his blades in. 

You trust Eren. 

You quickly grab onto his huge pointer finger with both hands and pull yourself up and steady. The heat from his body is at near scorching levels, so you balance lightly by tapping your hands against his so you don’t burn yourself.

Levi stops his assault and ends up dropping onto Eren’s shoulder, scrutinizing you two intently.

Eren ignores Levi’s weight and stares at you silently, as if asking for an explanation.

You clarify shyly, “I wasn’t paying attention and reignited my injury. It doesn’t hurt anymore, I just wasn’t careful.”

His eyes glance down at your lifted ankle and then draw back to your face.

You tilt your head and wear a reassuring smile, “Everything’s fine.”

He stays planted in place.

You can feel everyone else’s anxieties and Levi’s near murderous glare drill into your skull, all pairs of blades still drawn. 

You desperately needed to appease both Eren and the growingly distrustful crowd.

“I’m fine Eren, I promise,” you peer deeply into his large eyes, trying your best to reaffirm the boy inside.

You place your casted ankle back down, and swirl your body around on both feet, demonstrating your returned mobility. You gently sway your hips into a little dance, knowing that he likes it when you move in such ways. 

Finally satisfied, Eren stands and turns to look at Levi who is still on his shoulder. The Titan nods at his captain before walking himself and the man back into their designated training zone.

The other Scouts return from the trees and stare at you without saying anything. 

You bend down to pick up your fallen objects, brushing off the dust that collected along the edges. Bringing your notebook up towards your face, you scribble away frantically, trying to capture what the hell just happened.

Engrossed in your writing, you hope to hide your severe embarrassment at how everyone’s attention is now so wrapped around you two.

* * *

“So what happened out there, Eren?” Hange asks, leaning over both their elbows intently, pointing their nose as forward as they can.

Most of the team is gathered at a wooden table, debriefing after the experiments. You and Moblit sit together off to the side, comparing notes. You’re not sure why Hange even asked you to track what happened today. Moblit’s words are incredibly precise and describe the trials perfectly. You peeked at his shorthand and actually made a mental note to steal some of his abbreviations. 

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t fully aware of what was going on until I had already stopped running,” Eren says, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck. 

Levi throws him a dirty look next to him, gripping his teacup tightly in his unusual manner. “Are we back to you being unpredictable again?”

“Wait, so you remember everything after you ran across the field?” Hange interjects with a hint of reflection off their silver, rectangular glasses. 

Eren nods slowly. “I don’t remember why I was moving so quickly.” He then turns to you. “But I’m aware I stopped before F/N and everything after. Once the Captain was on my shoulder, we went back to the field and commenced with the usual experiments.” 

The senior officers all turn to peer at you and your skin heats under their gaze. You keep your mouth shut, feeling like you did something wrong in commanding Eren’s earlier attention. 

“Ah, so that was all intentional. That’s great! That means you’re more conscious of your actions,” Hange says excitedly.

She continues firing off questions to him to which he tries to answer to the best of his abilities. He was able to detail all the actions that he took in his titan form, matching what the squad leader had intended him to do for the day. Before long, the remaining rays of the afternoon slip away.

“That’s enough for the day. Let’s head back,” Levi orders and the rest of the soldiers happily oblige. 

There is a brief shuffling as everyone packs their equipment and bags and sling themselves onto their horses, eager to head to dinner. Luckily, you’re able to ride without issue.

Darting your eyes ahead, you ease more pressure with your right heel to push her further along the pack. 

“I really am fine, you know,” you say, pulling your horse up to Eren’s.

He looks at you with a blank gaze as he says, “I know. You’re not going to die from a twisted ankle.”

“Exactly. So I appreciate you coming all the way over to show your concern,” you say with a slow grin. You eye him intently and he understands what you’re referring to.

“That’s not what happened,” Eren mumbles, gripping the reins to his horse tighter.

“Maybe not. But I still wanted to thank you either way,” you say, looking towards the fading sunset.

You miss the way he flushes as he turns away, hearing only a muttering of an inaudible reply. 

A flurry of hope builds in your chest as you think about Eren’s progress. 

The operation to take back Wall Maria is looking more and more hopeful every day.

* * *

Further behind the pack, the senior captains sit silently, dreading the reports they will have to fill out once they return to base.

Hange observes you and Eren for several moments, intrigued by your dynamic.

His lingering gazes and soft smiles towards you does not go unnoticed by the veteran captain. 

“That boy has a _crush_ ,” they finally snicker to Levi, out of both of your hearing ranges.

Hange's features turn grimly serious as they turn towards the shorter man.

“We may have to tell Erwin,” they say, their usual impishness absent from their tone. 

Levi sullenly nods and his face turns almost pitiful as he watches the two of you playfully shove each other on your horses further ahead. 

“Give me a little time before we report it,” he states, leaving no room for questions.

The proclaimed titan-lover turns to stare inquisitively at him through their thick glasses. 

Hange grins mischievously, having a gut feeling about what Levi may have in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a particularly original idea, but thanks for reading!!


	10. Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You finally get a day off. Of course you end up spending it with Eren.
> 
> A/N: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

“Are you heading into town later? There’s a bunch of us going!”

Lifting your head up towards the voice, you stop stirring what remains of your bland oats around on your plate as you respond cheerfully, “Of course Sasha! How often do we get to leave grounds like this?”

The answer is rarely ever. Only a couple times a year.

Your Commander graciously allowed the Scouts to leave campus today as a well deserved-break. After several long weeks of intense training, the rookie soldiers are relieved to take this rest. 

Besides, it’s good for morale to partake in and be reminded of civilian life. Although, the spirits around the Survey Corps compound has been quite high as it is.

Everyone believes in Eren.

All soldiers on site know exactly who he is and what it means to have someone like him in their ranks. Whispers follow him wherever he goes, and you notice that he tries his best not to be fazed by it anymore.

There is such strong camaraderie with the Scouts. It was surprisingly simple, soaking in as much advice from your seniors as you could, as many carried an open door policy. Knowing that once you leave these walls, you operate as a unit that takes care of each other on your missions. It’s an unyielding bond that you readily dedicate your heart to. 

Ever since your accidental injury, you’ve been much more strategic with your gear maneuvering. So far, you’ve been quite content with your progress. There’s been an all across the board skill advancement among the rest of the cadets too. Eren has also been proud to report immense progress with his control over his titan-shifting powers.

So you feel like you really earned your free day.

“Jean are you going?” you turn towards your seat buddy this morning. 

He shakes his head, grinning as he reports, “I’m going to ride into Trost and surprise my mom.”

“Aw cute. Tell her I say hi,” you add, happy that Jean’s deciding to spend time with his family instead.

“Yeah, _so cute_ , Little Jean,” Connie lightly teases, earning a snicker from Eren, happy to use the nickname again. Jean’s eyebrow twitches, but he’s in too good of a mood to let the cadet bother him. 

“Well, the rest of us can meet at the entrance and ride down together,” Krista says, flashing a wide smile at the prospect of all the activities for the day. 

“Let’s meet in half an hour. That should give us enough time to go there and come back before curfew. Otherwise Captain Levi will assign us extra stable duties,” Armin points out.

You shudder at the thought. That man had the most stringent cleaning standards you have ever met and he’s rather loose with assigning them to subpar soldiers who don’t meet his expectations. You’ve luckily received fewer punishments than others, as you’ll meticulously double check your work. Fair price to pay for feeling on edge around the stern captain most days.

When you’re back in your room, you rummage through your dresser, eager to pull out specific pieces of clothing. You tug on your slim, tan trousers and a ruffled white top that had long, intricate sleeves that caught your attention the first time you saw it. You shift the opening of your blouse so it fits more comfortably as it rests on your open shoulders.

You don’t own a lot of civilian clothes, but you treated yourself to this outfit the last time you were at the marketplace back during your training corp days. You’ve been anticipating adorning them ever since. 

Grinning, you can’t help but feel a little giddy at the prospect of shutting your mind off to your soldier duties and disappearing into civilian life for the day. 

Although you don’t get to visit often, you loved going to the nearby towns and market. It serves as a loud reminder that life is resilient and moves on, flourishing where it can foster its roots and bloom as if tragedy never struck. 

As scheduled, a group of your comrades meet at the stable and Reiner leads the way into town. 

Almost an hour later, you’ve all arrived without a hitch. You slide off your horse and tie her reins to the post right outside the town’s entrance, digging a sugar cube you sneaked from the kitchen out of your pocket. She delightfully snatches it out of your hand and you grin as you scratch her white striped marking in between her eyes, cooing praises into her ear. 

“What’s the plan?” you ask, turning towards your group.

Immediately, Krista and Ymir started walking away, the vivacious shorter girl pointing to the colorful shop windows that entered their view, tugging the other along. Bertholdt and Reiner seemed to amble together in the opposite direction, deciding to tackle the town from west of the entrance’s split path, their long legs carrying them quickly into the crowd. 

Glancing at half the group who remained, Sasha quickly floats a suggestion. 

“The food stalls will be closer to center square, let’s head there first!” she exclaims, drool already sliding down her open mouth, as she skips in that direction.

“Sounds great,” Connie beams, lacing his fingers behind his head as he leisurely follows.

“Think she’ll chew anything today or just swallow everything whole?” Mikasa muses, rousing a chuckle out of you.

“We all know how to do the heimlich maneuver should we need to,” you tease the eager girl, who is quickly walking out of your earshot.

Trailing behind Connie and Sasha are Armin and Eren, who are happily chatting ahead of you and Mikasa. You pay them no heed as your attention is being drawn to the cute, boutique shops that immediately surround you once you pass the large archway in the entrance. 

You smile, taking in each of the merchant’s specialties, excited that everything is so bright and inviting. It doesn’t take long for the wonderful aroma of fried dough to infiltrate your nostrils. 

You don’t know what to focus on first, darting your eyes in between each stimulant, quickly feeling overwhelmed. Beside you, Mikasa just keeps her passive face forward. You don’t know whether to be impressed by her hyperfocus or bummed that she isn’t losing herself in the commercial chaos. 

You gasp as you pass a window displaying a rainbow of notebooks and collection of fountain pens. Pausing, you even backtrack a couple steps to admire the craft.

This is where you wanted to visit first.

You thought you had announced out loud to your friends that you were going to step into the store, but in your excitement, you instead fixate all your attention in getting yourself through the inviting door.

Before you knew it, you were alone, wandering around in the quaint but packed stationery shop.

The fresh smell of pages waft into your senses. The walls before you are intricately decorated with varying sizes and types of notebooks. Each shelf is carefully lined with notebooks, organized by color, occasionally broken by cups displaying various writing instruments.

Everything is so neat and meticulously organized.

A new notebook will do you some good. You’re quickly running out of pages in your overfilled, tiny bounded book. 

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” an elderly woman behind the cashier’s counter calls out to you.

Turning, you shake your head. “Just seeing what sparks the most joy for me,” you smile, casting your eyes back onto the wondrous selection before you. 

She chuckles and tells you to take your time. You’re surprised that you’re the only one in the little, hidden gem.

Humming, you trace the tips of your fingers along the spines of several books before deciding on a pretty forest green spiral notebook that appears rather sturdy. It’ll match your uniform as a cute little coordinated effort. You also select a couple of black fountain pens that you can easily keep in your pockets. You clasp your items and bring them up to the front with a light smile. 

The worker carefully wraps your purchase with clean, crisp tissue paper, while keeping the pens inside, tying a single red string around the package to keep it tightly bundled. She thanks you for your purchase, but you return the gratitude for reinvigorating you with such a cute shop. You slip the package in your plain, weathered tote bag that you sling over your shoulder. 

As you step outside, you nearly run headfirst into Eren.

“Eren,” you greet, before scanning your gaze across the bustling streets. “Where are the others?”

“I actually don’t know,” he says, rubbing one side of his neck awkwardly. “I ran ahead of the group at some point and lost sight of everyone. So I retraced my steps but only saw you in the window."

“Ah. Typical,” you snicker, shuffling around him so you’re not blocking the entryway.

An awkward pause endures.

“Should we just wait for everyone to find us here? Or maybe I should just go back?” Eren brings up, breaking the silence. He looks a little unsure if he should even be here. You’re convinced Armin dragged him along today. 

You wonder if he really would prefer to return to grounds. 

Although, you observe that his usually tense shoulders appear a little more relaxed. His forehead doesn’t hold as many tiny folds that scrunch together, and his eyes still bounce around in wonder at the buzzing stalls nearby.

You turn to block his view from the exit out of the town, stretching out your arms dramatically. 

“If you were back on the compound, what would you be doing?” you ask, arching your eyebrow. 

“Probably training. The expedition is just a few weeks away. I have to be prepared,” he answers without hesitation. 

Figures that’s how he would respond. He would never take a break if it wasn’t built into his schedule. 

“Hmm. Commander Erwin gave us today off for a reason. Let’s take this blessing and recuperate so we can be stronger the rest of our days before our expedition,” you smile convincingly. 

Besides, you figured being off the compound where all that pressure is cooking around him at all times will be a nice change of pace.

However, he still didn’t look convinced.

“Everyone else can, but I can’t be held to that same standard,” he mutters, almost to himself. 

You roll your eyes and huff at his argument, stepping forward into his personal space.

“Eren, you’re a soldier who deserves a break like everyone else. Besides, it’ll be good for you to get away for the day. Let’s see what else is happening at center square,” you delightfully suggest before bringing your arms up to push him more aggressively further into town.

He stutters a half-hearted rejection, but decides he can't argue with you there. 

Instead, he sighs as he nods and turns around and moves forward, but not before swiping your hands away. “Fine, fine, you can stop now.”

Smirking in victory, you follow in step with his pace, happily pointing out all the fascinating trinkets and luxuries on display that you have no need for in the windows that still catch your eye. 

Neither of you see Armin, Sasha, and Connie using all of their strengths to hold back Mikasa in the corner of an alley between the shops.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for you to feel lost in the thickening crowd.

Prickles of claustrophobia trickle in as you shove yourself through the hordes of bodies, just as much as you’re being shoved back. 

How are there so many people here?

Glancing up onto a poster you have seen repeated across several windows, it reads that a local musical play is in town for the weekend. Likely what is drawing the huge crowds.

“Eren!” you call out, but he doesn’t hear you. Instead, he’s fixated on the large stage that’s being built in the middle of the public square.

His longer legs quickly carry him deeper into the crowd.

Not wanting to lose the only friend you have left from your group, you burst yourself forward, and just when Eren is finally within reach, you instinctively swipe your hand across Eren’s back, seeking his uniform strap.

The tips of your fingers brush against the back of his cream colored shirt, and Eren turns around curiously and sees your arm swing off course completely.

You blink at your mistake. 

Of course there was nothing for you to grab onto.

“Can you slow down? I’d rather not lose sight of my only lifeline here,” your eyes plead at him, feeling nervous about how the streets are suddenly more packed.

Eren turns around, opening his mouth as he stares down to address you.

However, a group of clearly inebriated young adults quickly stumble by, laughing as they make a beeline to plow right through the distance between you. He instantly grabs your hand and pulls you towards him, out of their way.

A light grin stretches on his face as relief washes over yours.

“Try harder to keep up,” Eren says, lips twisting into a little smirk.

As his fingers start to slip away from yours, you grip onto them tightly. 

“At least have the courtesy of dragging me along with you,” your eyes bore into his in annoyance, knowing he won’t slow his pace.

His smirk widens at the proposition and decides to take it.

“Like a ragdoll?” he teases.

“Must you think so lowly of me?” you frown, embarrassment rising in your chest.

In response, he intertwined his fingers so they fit more comfortably against yours. 

“Stay with me,” he says, moving his face towards the crowd again, tugging you along this time.

You’re struck again by how comfortably his fingers wind around yours.

Finally, the beginnings of the center market come into view and your eyes light up at the delicious sight. 

Although, you’ve made it through the thick of the crowd, neither of you feel like letting the other go. 

Instead, you’re moved by how the stalls overflow with both fresh eats and handmade crafts, and just how utterly _happy_ people are as they haggle with merchants, chat with their friends, and spoil their young children for the day. 

It’s as if you’re gliding in a trance, having Eren drag you from stall to stall, bouncing your captivated eyes among the sizzling vegetable dishes, ornate art pieces, and sparking cut jewelry. 

Then, from the corner of your eye, a beautifully patterned scarf comes into view that you can’t look away from. 

Pausing your steps, you drop his hand so you can graze your fingers across the soft, sleekness of the silk. 

You miss the way Eren’s face drops just a fracture at the loss and briefest of glances he spares towards his hand that now rests empty. 

“Are you going to get it?” he asks instead, trying to get his mind off his desire to be close to you once more. 

You rub your thumb along the silken trails before sighing and shaking your head. “This will be too thick for the upcoming weather. I don’t want to purchase something just for it to sit in my drawers for a couple seasons.”

You drop the edges and try to ignore the disappointment from the merchant overseeing his goods. Whipping your face forward, you say instead, “Let’s keep going, there’s so much here!”

Strolling down another alley, you soon find yourself surrounded by all forms of art; paintings, statues, and the melodies of instruments that blow in the wind. You can practically feel the creativity and positive vibes of their sounds, feeling lucky enough to cross their paths on the way into the universe. 

While you are indulging yourself with these delights, Eren isn’t particularly moved in the same way. 

To be honest, Eren has never taken the time to appreciate the arts. While his gaze will briefly touch these assortment of crafts, he’ll instead linger on your enthralled orbs which dance with glimmers. Your serene smile that sits lightly on your face, easing away the edges of harshness you developed during training. Or the soft ways your hands will bounce, ever the slightest at your sides, a small, physical manifestation of your joy. 

He finds that it’s easier to be mesmerized by you instead.

* * *

One particular art gallery catches your eye.

“Let’s check this out,” you say, pointing towards it and pivoting on your heel to enter the studio. An immediate shuffling of steps indicates that Eren is quick to follow your lead. 

The studio is cozy, with only two makeshift halls, held together by a tall divider. Small pieces that are no taller or longer than one foot are hung several feet apart from each other. The calmness of the space and ease in the lull cultivates an oasis of tranquility.

“Must have taken forever to get all these brushstrokes down”, Eren says loudly, breaking the deafening silence. The rupture draws a few scowls from other visitors who click their tongues sharply in disapproval.

Twisting your face towards him, you pull a finger up to your lips, indicating a shushing motion. 

“It’s customary to either whisper or observe silently at galleries,” you hush in a light scorn against your finger. Pausing, you drop your hand as you admire the brushwork before grinning, “You’re totally right though.”

If Eren had his way, he would rather stroll through at his usual pace, never lingering for more than a couple seconds. But as you slowly take your time absorbing each piece, he finds that he would rather stay by your side patiently. 

He looks over your shoulder as you admire the paintings. The artist’s themes of suffering are consistent among the darkly colored works, but as you near the end of the row, more strings of light and bright colors luster on the pieces, representing the belief that hope will inevitably prevail.

You stare longingly at the portrait in front of you. 

A single woman stands out in a grey, barren field. Her face is tired, wrinkles wide-stretched across her face that looks too young to see such pain. Her thin, worn rake is tucked under her arm, as she palms a fistful of soil, containing a single white daffodil in between her hands. Trailing downwards where her bare feet lay are a ring of beautiful, blooming white daffodils.

A message of rebirth after the cycles of death and despair. 

Glancing closer, you read that the painting is titled _”Vitality”_.

How fitting. 

“This is beautiful,” Eren comments softly in your ear, not wanting to upset the room again. His breath tickles your ear.

He’s not wrong.

“She seems lonely,” you say quietly. 

Eren turns to you with slight confusion. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“I guess I see hope more in the form of the human community. Life will always move on without us. Whether that be our ecosystems, our land, mother nature, other forms of life,” you ramble, getting caught in the moment. You stop yourself as you grin, “But art is up to the eye of the beholder.”

“Right,” Eren says, shifting his stance so his weight is on his other foot, the one closest to you. “You really are an artist at heart, huh,” he observes out loud.

You shrug nonchalantly but let out a short, airy laugh. “Is that irresponsible for a soldier to admit?” you smile cheekily.

He shakes his head, but looks at you longingly as you move on to the next piece, reading through the little tag of description placed in the top right corner. 

You silently walk through the rest of this gallery, fully immersing yourself in the talent that surrounds you. Once you are at the end, you see the artist, already working with his oils on another piece. He’s a younger fellow, but the deep bags under his eyes show that he clearly has experienced his fair share in this world. 

It’s not like you can carry one of these portraits back into your room, so you slip a few bills into his donation bin instead, noticing that Eren does the same. You both thank him for sharing his incredible works and he nods your way.

When you step back outside, the contrast against the bustling streets shakes you back to reality. 

“Thanks for visiting with me. I understand that it probably wasn’t your thing,” you express.

Eren looks at you before grinning.“ It was fun. But I’m getting hungry, let’s find a place to eat,” he says, before setting off. 

While you seek your next pit stop, you sneak a glance at Eren every now and then. It’s been nice seeing him divert his energy into something else besides the upcoming mission. You’re not sure how he does it, going around with his level of enthusiasm while living with his head full of those nightmares. 

As you continue parsing through the stands, your smiles and laughter with Eren become more frequent, and you both rile up a few merchants who yell at you two for touching everything when neither of you clearly had any intent of purchase.

While you giggled away, you peered up at his bright smile that stretches his face in a handsome way.

You really like hanging out with Eren like this. 

You can pretend for a moment you lived in a world where you didn’t have to fight in it every day.

* * *

“Your loans on your taxes are overdue again, old man.”

Your eyes flash up towards the snidely tone that hounds your ears as soon as you walk through the doors of the bakery.

Your heart stops at the sight.

Two Military Police Officers. Berating the shop owner, who fidgets nervously under their intimidating glower.

“I’m sorry, I’m slowly paying back the sum in pieces. If you come back next week I’ll be sure to have the rest of the amount,” the balding, white-haired man says, raising shaking hands to grasp them together in his plea. 

“Tch. Have you no respect for the King? His grace kindly allows your sad shop to exist within these precious walls, and you don’t even have the decency to pay your debts on time? We’ll have to increase the interest on your loans to 20% this time,” one of the officers says, throwing a condescending look with his words.

“Please! Of course I hold the highest regards for the King, but 20% will ruin my business,” the man nearly whimpers. 

“Well then,” the other officer says, “Throw us another cut of your profits for the day, and we’ll look the other way.”

The old man pales as he stumbles through his cash drawer, shakily grabbing at what’s left of his large bills to hand them over. As he is busy gathering the money, you watch the two officers smirk at each other. 

The actions boils your skin.

Did your ears defy you? You’ve never heard of adjustments of interest on tax loans before. If anything, you’ve read that the monarchy will collect the back pay on taxes in quarterly increments.

These soldiers are _daring to steal_ from civilians just to pocket the money themselves!

Whirling towards Eren, you’re about to ask him if he heard what you did, but the visceral anger in his features tells you that he has.

As livid as Eren is, he knows this holds another layer of animosity for you.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, voice so low it resembles a dangerous growl.

“I want to confront them. What are my options?” you ask honestly because you’re not sure. 

“Either speak with them rationally or I can beat them with my fists. I have no problem resorting to the latter,” Eren says, cracking a few of his knuckles in anticipation. 

You shake your head, touching his fists gently. You don’t want that. This shop owner is always dealing with so much. Adding violence on top of this won’t do anyone any favors.

“Ok, then follow my lead,” Eren says, turning to face the two offenders.

“Oi,” he calls out loudly, “That’s pretty shitty, lying to your civilians about tax codes. What happened to your duties as soldiers sworn to preserve order?”

“We are preserving order,” the first soldier says, glaring vicious daggers at Eren. “What do you know about soldierly duties? You kids better run away if you know what’s best for you.”

“On the contrary, as Scouts, we’re _very well_ aware of how our military operates. Including how to report abuse of power,” you cut in, crossing your arms, holding a deep scowl on your face.

You turn to the shop owner before you say, “Don’t give him the money. He doesn’t have any authority to solicit extra interest like that. As per section 17.B in our codebook.” You’re glad all those nights of endless studying finally proved to be of some applicable use. 

Both Military Police officials twitch their eyes as their glare intensifies, ready to snap back. 

Eren strides up while you were speaking and snatches the sheet of paper, and proceeds to list off the names. “Arthur Green and Dan Smythe. I’ll be sure to remember when I report this to my Captain, _Levi Ackerman_.”

At the sound of Levi’s name, the officers pause and stall their efforts. It’s never wise to cross humanity’s strongest. 

“Tch, let’s go. We’ll be back, old man. Don’t think we’ll forget about you,” the second soldier says. He roughly brushes past Eren, who stands his ground, making the aggressor stumble with a string of curses under his breath.

When they finally leave, your scowl lifts off your face.

“You kids really know your stuff. Thank you kindly for helping someone like me,” the older man says, stuffing his bills back in his cash drawer. 

“How much have they been asking from you? And for how long?” Eren pushes for answers.

“Almost six months now. I already paid back the taxes on the loan I took out, but it’s the interest and cuts that’s aiding their return,” he shares, wiping a line of sweat off his forehead with his light, blue sleeves.

“That’s not right. If you paid back the taxes, they have no right to keep harassing you,” Eren says sharply.

“The next time they bother you, report them to the military. Ask for any commanding squad leader and tell them what these two have done to you and it will be mandatory of them to investigate. I hope the process stops them from any further antagonization,” you share. 

The bakery owner appears overwhelmed with the information you both shared and profusely thanked you, which you and Eren both sheepishly accept. 

“Here,” he says, reaching into his pastry case. His slender, aging hands fish out two loaded breads, full of buttercream that sticks out. “ This is what you came here for right? On the house.”

“Oh,” you begin to refuse, “We can’t accept that. Please let us pay for it like we intended.”

However, the elderly man just waves your words away. “ Nonsense. This is the least I can do,” he says, shoving the two pastries into both you and Eren’s hands.

You hesitantly accept it with a grateful smile and thank him for the treat. 

“Save the money on something else for your girl, young man,” he then winks to Eren, causing color to quickly rise in his cheeks.

“We-we’re not-”

“Bye-bye now!” he cuts him off, with an exuberant smile and an enormous wave of his hands, as another group of customers enter his shop.

You wave farewell back, eager to dig in. Once you’re out in the busy streets again, you begin heading back towards the center square. You both agreed earlier that you wanted to watch the major play that’s about to start soon.

You sink your keen teeth into the soft bread, extracting a sweetness that fills your mouth. It’s so delicious, you take another bite before finishing off your first. The excess cream spills out and you have to use your napkin to wipe it away. 

“Why are you eating it that way?” Eren wrinkles his nose, glancing at how messy your treat is becoming.

“What do you mean?” you ask, taking another bite that leaves more cream on the bottom of your cheek.

“I mean, that you're wasting it," he laments as you once again wipe your napkin across the edges of your mouth. You look for a bin to toss the paper cloth, as it is already pretty soiled with the sugary paste.

"What’s it to you?" you smirk at his judgement.

It’s your bread. You can do whatever you want with it.

You roll your eyes before huffing, “I’ll go back and buy you another one if it’ll get you to stop complaining.”

He stays silent and for a moment you thought you won your appeasement.

Smirking, Eren latches one of his hands on top of yours that’s holding the bread and squeezes lightly. 

Surprised, you exclaim for him to let you go, the edges of your face heating up. You place your free hand on his chest and try to push him away, to no avil. 

You then realize he’s using his other hand to swipe a finger at the budding mountain of buttercream being milked out of your pastry. You protest to him more urgently to leave your precious treat be.

They go willfully ignored by the stronger male. 

“No need. I don’t like seeing things go to waste,” he says, placing his finger with the stolen amount into his mouth, plucking it clean. 

Your eyes refused to leave Eren’s lips for a couple seconds.

He notices.

Ripping them away, you stammer out, “Y-you could have asked!”

“You wouldn’t have listened,” Eren says smugly, leaning closer towards your face to rub the fruits of his theft in. 

Knowing your cheeks are deepening with every passing second, you spin away from Eren and sputter out, “The play is probably going to start soon. We’ll want to find good seats.”

His chuckle lingers in your ears all the way over to those seats.

* * *

As expected, the play draws an enormous crowd. People must have come in from other districts. The only available seating you can spot is all the way at the top of the constructed, wooden bleachers. 

When you and Eren finally situate yourself, high above on the perched seating, you notice most of your friends down near the floor. Too far away from them to notice you.

You brush off your desire to be more near to them and focus instead on the large, elaborate stage ahead of you.

As most spectators squeeze themselves into the limited spaces, you feel yourself being pushing further into Eren’s left side. You mutter an apology and try to push back, though the gentleman next to you isn’t acting much like a gentleman, spreading himself out rather comfortably. 

“Don’t worry,” Eren says, letting you lean into him as he sends him a glare that goes completely ignored. “Just focus on the show.”

You do so as the actors and musicians start filing onstage, not remissing that you would be shivering against the chilling afternoon air if it weren’t for Eren’s emanating warmth. 

The players on stage are good. Really good. They’re acting out a classic, star-crossed lovers story, one that often graces romance novels that are picked first. Their melancholy singing harmonizes with the beat of the percussion instruments, tugging at the audience’s hearts while their yearning bodies contort in ways that gracefully express their desires.

Love can be so wonderful yet so painful, and the audience feels the friction of these lovers' fires that rubs so tragically against the other. 

“Have you ever been on a stage like this?” Eren whispers easily in your ear. 

You sadly shake your head no. 

“Not one this spectacular. That would be a dream,” you wish out loud, leaning your head in both your hands as they rest on your knees. 

You fixate your gaze on the performers with a longing in your eyes that’s almost impossible to miss.

"One day you will," he says quietly, breaking your attention. "After we reclaim these walls and get rid of all titans. Once we have true freedom."

You crack a small smile against the your palms.

"You think so?"

You knew his answer. 

"Yes."

You just wanted to hear him say it again.

"Okay, Eren," you chuckle, closing your eyes, losing yourself in the music. 

He watches you drift your eyelids close, slowly bobbing your head side to side with the rhythm. 

Feeling his own heartbeat flutter. 

There is soon a lull on stage as the lights dim, allowing the hushed whispers of the audience to fill the gaps in the air where melodies once rang. 

Suddenly, you look around and notice that your comrades below are missing. Feeling your stomach drop, you wonder if they already returned back to base.

A quick glance at the clock indicates that you have to leave immediately or you’ll run the serious risk of being late. You _did not_ want to be punished for missing curfew. That would rather defeat the purpose of partaking in your time off. 

“Eren, we have to go!” you exclaim, panicked by how much time got away from you, practically pushing you teetering on the cusp of your curfew.

“Shit!” He bolts up to his feet.

You frown as you gather your belongings. You’re leaving before the concluding act. 

“Next time, we can see it in its entirety,” Eren says, noticing your disappointment. 

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

Without agreeing prior to it, your and Eren’s hands seek each other out and he tugs you along through the seated crowd, making sure to keep you close as you both scurry along.

He doesn’t let you go until you reach your horses.

You curse out loud as only your and Eren’s horses remain. Meaning that everyone else already left once they realized they ran out of time. You quickly untie the reins and scramble onto your horse. Leading her towards the direction of the Survey Corps campus, you apologize as you kick her into her fastest speed.

As you and Eren race back towards the compound, a fleeting thought crosses your nervous mind. 

_Was today a date?_

But as soon as it comes, you furiously shake the thoughts out of your head. 

No need to misconstrue your lovely evening together.

* * *

By the time you both reach headquarters, it’s almost your curfew. As the halls bare empty, the two of you stick out easily and have to endure a few patrols barking at you both to return to your rooms.  
You stop at the junction in the hallways that split into different paths of your sleeping quarters.

Eren shifts your shoulders towards you and moves to continue walking with you. You immediately push both your hands out against his chest to stop his momentum.

“Where are you going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously.

“I’m escorting you,” Eren says looking down at you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“No no no,” you emphasize, stepping into your hands with much more force, “If you get caught Captain Levi is going to have your ass.”

Eren’s chest doesn’t bulge at all. If anything, you feel the muscles under his shirt tighten up. Is he flexing on you?!

His lips turn into a smirk as he grasps both your wrists tightly and easily pushes them away from his body.

“Worth it,” he teases softly, leaning into you, eyes keen on your reaction.

Your face flushes as his grip remains and you’re hyper aware of how the clock is ticking and how utterly _close_ he is to you. Twisting your hands around, you gently hold his wrists in return and capture his eyes with urgency reflected in yours. 

“Eren, I appreciate spending so much time in your company today. Truly. But I can’t allow you to get in trouble. It’ll wash over all the good will we exercised today,” you plead.

Examining his determined features only serves to heighten your erratic heartbeat. You take in deep breaths, urging yourself to calm down. 

He senses the panic in your features so he reluctantly lets go with a grumble of acceptance.

You’re painfully aware of how his touches ignite your skin. You channel all your willpower to stop the warmth from spreading to the rest of your body.

Eren turns to walk back to his room but throws one last lingering look your way.

“Good night F/N.”

“Good night, Eren.”

Feeling your cheeks heat again, you twist around and immediately shuffle down the hallway towards the female quarters. 

You could have sworn you heard a small chuckle from your companion today.

You peek over your shoulder and when his head of hair finally disappears around the corner, you allow yourself to break out into a wide grin. A soft giggle escapes your lips and you embarrassingly slap a hand over to muffle it.

What is wrong with you.

It's just Eren. You just had a lovely day with one of your good friends.

What’s there to get so excited about?

In your occupied state of mind, your body works on autopilot, leading you down the familiar path through the corridors. 

However, your body startles just as you turn the corner and nearly collide with another being.

“Ah, sorry,” you say, moving to skirt around the individual.

Then your eyes lock with sharp, grey ones and a shiver crawls down your spine.

“Captain! My apologies,” you spit out as you compose yourself to stand into a salute to pay your respects.

“Cadet L/N,” Levi addresses you.

He stares you down and you try your best not to sweat under his intense scrutiny. 

“Curfew is in a few minutes. Get moving,” your Captain orders, indicating that you needed to leave first.

“R-right away,” you stutter as you unfurrow your position and hurry even faster towards your room.

As you hear his footsteps recede further and further away, dread creeps up and screams alarm bells in your head.

This is a dead-end corridor. 

What possible reasoning was there for Levi to cross paths with you here?

You swallow a nervous lump that forms in your throat. 

Was Levi purposely seeking you out just now? 

Your stomach churns at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally some fluff lol. Hopefully the transition wasn’t too choppy. Thanks for reading!


	11. Levi's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Levi tests you against Eren. Who fails miserably.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

“Run it again.”

Exasperations and loud groans bubble up from your comrades and you add your own deep sigh into the colorful mix. However, you cut your complaint short when Levi throws a more menacing glare in your group’s direction.

“Shave off another minute,” he adds to his order. The soldiers fidget nervously at his enhanced expectations. 

“Yes Captain!”

As you trudge your way back towards the start of the course, the weight of your gear enhances the heaviness in your walk, as it drives a deeper friction against your straps. 

This is the second time you’re back on the regiment’s main training grounds today. Your muscles pang with each step, signaling their exhaustion. 

Levi looks like he’s in a bad mood. But who really knows, that man seems to carry a perpetual scowl wherever he goes.

However, today seems particularly bad, with him dealing out his verbal lashings more frequently.

“Ackerman, pull your straps up!” Levi barks at the girl, who falters ever the slightest as she swiftly turns to readjust her barely loosened belts. 

No one seems safe.

Must be strange to hear himself snarl his own name out so bitterly. You asked Mikasa if there was any way she and the Captain are related, but she doesn’t seem to have any notion that they were. Though the coincidence that they’re both so highly capable doesn’t slip your mind.

Once you return to the beginning of the course, you do a quick sweep of the soldiers around you. The veterans barely look like they broke a sweat, while the rookies were trying very hard to conceal their sapped demeanor. You can’t help but be a little worried that such a salient gap in experience exists between the two groups.

But you’re a team. Regardless of your status, once you leave these walls, titans sure as hell won’t care how many years of experience you have with the Scouts. Your flesh will still taste the same to them. 

“Rookies! Just follow our lead,” Nanaba instructs, turning her serious tone towards your group. 

You all echo a confirmation, knowing you would be racked with guilt if you brought down the veterans. 

“We got this!” Krista beams, shining some support to the fresh recruits.

A gunshot erupts, and all pairs of gears whirl into the forest. 

Although you’re familiar with this run, the pressure of shortened time combined with Levi’s command is putting your nerves a little on edge. 

You trail behind the green cloaks ahead of you, slicing through the marks with ease. At least the targets adapted by the Scouts weren’t so stagnant like the training corps. There’s a more intricate pulley system that makes the target more difficult to hit, to better mimic how titans really move.

Regardless, you were able to easily adjust in cutting through them, to the delight of some of your other captains. 

The objective of this course is simple. Strike down all titans before you exit. Doesn’t matter who does what, or even if one person strikes them all down. Everyone just has to make it through. And fast.

You went ahead of the pack to take down extra ones, hoping to ease the burden of your colleagues.

Ever since your ruthless maneuvering stunt, you’ve been more careful with your movements, which has helped increase your accuracy. 

So, you don’t mind putting more on yourself. 

But maybe you’ve been a little too cautious.

You’re falling behind.

“F/N, hurry up, we’re almost there!” Connie shouts from ahead of you, striking down the last of the targets.

A frown crosses your face. 

You will NOT be the reason why your group didn’t meet your captain’s standards of conduct today. 

As the finish line approaches once more, you absolutely _hurl_ towards it. 

Your landing is kind of wobbly, but you shake both your ankles around, and grin in relief when you note they’re both fully functional.

Whew. Close call.

Mike stands next to Levi, keeping time. He announces that you all shaved off exactly one minute and not a second less.

Success! You turn to your closest comrade, which turns out to be Ymir, giving her a high five.

You feel a pair of eyes on you, and you follow its presence to see Levi glowering at you.

“Watch it, Cadet,” he says, referring to your landing.

You gulp. Nodding your head deferentially, you avoid his eyesight, unable to hold his intense glare. 

You wouldn’t have had to hold it for very long as he cuts his attention to another cadet.

“Mikasa!” 

A shudder draws through the crowd. 

“What the hell did I tell you,” he starts, powerful stride aiming towards her, “ about keeping this shit tight?” He stops in front of Mikasa, grabbing her loosened straps, and yanking them roughly upwards for her.

The cadet responds with a menacing glare, unable to help her instincts that clutch her body, drawing her shoulders more rigid and the lines in her face more tight.

He deflects her dark aura with his own and you swear the ground would be capable enough of opening up, swallowing you all whole. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it so much after today. 

“Apologies Captain. Won’t do it again,” she says coolly, doing an excellent job of exuding how unbothered she is by his invasion of her space. 

You bite the inside of your lips, chewing on his criticism. Mikasa always consistently gathers the most targets compared to even the top veterans here. Is it really that big of a deal if her straps become more loose in the process? 

You didn’t like how Levi was calling her out like this. Maybe she’s just due for new belts. It made you uneasy and frankly, a little subconscious about how he’ll choose to demean you in front of your comrades. 

Eren was standing next to her throughout the tense interaction, wearing his own scowl that he deepens when the Captain walks away.

“What the hell was that?” he asks his sister, who just shrugs in her nonchalant manner. Eren brushes it off as well, caulking it up to the eccentric nature of the enigmatic soldier. 

Only one more exercise remains of training. 

You’re already ready to get this over with. 

After being instructed to pair up, you wind up in Eren’s orbit. He throws you an exhausted greeting that you barely returned.

Mike leads you further along the fields towards a series of strengthening and ability-building exercises. He instructs you all to drop your gear for the day and your muscles sing with relief as you immediately release the crossing clasps.

The remaining hour is filled with the grunts, heaves, and groans as you all strain to complete your training for the day. 

Before you stands a boxing reflex training equipment. A form of agility training where you face off against yourself. The vertical bar will return to you with just as much force as you put into it, therefore you’ll need to be able to dodge its swing back at your face, while countering with additional hits at just the right moments.

“You got this F/N,” Eren says with a wince, after the bar smacks you in the face for the umteempth time. 

You grimace at the offending bar that doesn’t hurt physically, but wounds your pride with each returned contact against your head. He grins at you encouragingly, bending over with his arms at his hips to catch his breath after his own successful session. 

Of course, being the adept fighter that he is, it was simple for Eren to pick up the skills needed to conquer this exercise.

“Focus more on dodging. Don’t hit it so hard if you’re not ready to counter it’s return,” Eren advises, sweeping his gaze across your struggling figure. 

It doesn’t stick, as you mess up again. 

“I’m trying,” you lament, sucking in deeper gulps of air into your burning lungs. 

“You’ll need to try harder, Cadet L/N.”

You didn’t even hear Levi approach you. His sulky presence fills the space. 

“Yes sir,” you say, returning into your fighting stance to have a go at the boxing bar again. 

After a couple more swings, bob and weaves, and misses, Levi cuts in.

“Your technique is sloppy.”

His words sounded harsh, but you know he’s right. A glum look overtakes your face before you clench your teeth, refusing to give up in front of your superior. 

“Bend your knees further down and widen your stance,” he continues.

Levi kicks a leg out to spread your planted feet further apart, right in Eren’s plain view. 

“Shift your stance so you’re not facing it square on.”

He grabs both your hips and turns you so that your dominant leg clearly leads the other.

“Lock your arms closer together in between throws and blocks.”

He raises both his hands up to grasp your wrists tightly, pushing them further into your frame with his elbows over your forearms, locking you in a vice-grip like embrace.

“This is the motion.”

He guides you through every bit of the movements, moving your body in sync with his expertly trained one.

“Understand, Cadet?” Levi whispers cut in your ear. 

You swallow as you feel on edge with how close he is handling you but nod fervently against him.

In your position, you haven’t been able to meet your Captain’s eye. It wouldn’t matter though, since he was locking eyes with Eren the entire time. 

Levi finally releases you and orders you to try again.

Keeping all of Levi’s advice in mind, you focus all your energy on the rotating bar ahead of you. 

Maintaining the same flow that was demonstrated on you earlier, you throw a couple solid punches, dodging the swings back, jabbing the bar again, and blocking it when it returns.

After a succession of attacks and counters, your eyes light up. 

Holy shit, this is so much better.

You pause your movements to look up to express gratitude to the experienced fighter for fixing your technique. However, he’s already halfway across the field, barking at another Scout. 

You hear him demean her, who even from your distance is admittedly struggling even more than you are, but he doesn’t offer personal help before walking away. 

“Captain Levi’s been acting kind of weird lately, right? Mikasa, am I the only one imagining this?” you ask your nearby comrade. 

She scowls, remembering how the man acted earlier. “Shorty’s definitely got something up his sleeve,” she says, throwing an extra hard punch at the bar, eyeing it hawkishly as it swings back in response just as rapidly, which she of course blocks in time. 

Huffing, you cease your admiration for the girl so you can finish up with your own turn at the apparatus.

“Eren, I’ll just do one more then you have at it,” you say, to which he agrees. 

While you return to your routine, Eren crosses his arms, scrunching his face in displeasure.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as Levi first touched you, Eren’s skin bristled vehemently and he was firing heated daggers his captain’s way. 

An expression he sustained nearly throughout your entire exchange with the man.

* * *

The harsh week continues, as Levi assigns your rookie class double stable duties, including a deep clean meant to sanitize the entire quarters. 

You carry your bruised egos with you into the horse’s stables, mentally preparing to come to terms with scrubbing the place meticulously from top to bottom to be as spotless as humanly possible. 

It didn’t take long for Levi to pick on his first victim. 

The raven-head practically breathes down your neck, sending frigid chills down your back when he hovers over you washing the floorboards. 

“Your scrubbing is almost as pathetic as your performance on the field earlier,” he says harshly. He places one hand on your back, pushing your chest closer into the ground. “Put your back into it like you mean it.”

“Y-yes Sir” you say, trying not to sound as meek as you felt. He lingers his hand on your back and you scrub the ground as forcibly as you could, the cold, ground grinding sharply against your knees.

The seconds dragged on like hours, before he scoffs loudly and withdraws his hand, releasing his pressure off you. The stoic captain then pivots sharply on his heel to exit the stables, stating that he’ll return within the hour, expecting the place dust-free. 

“Kirstein. If your section isn’t clean enough to lick off of, you’re eating your dinner right off its floor.”

Jean gulps before hurriedly stating his affirmation earnestly, apprehensive that Levi would continue his roughhousing. Luckily, he’s spared any further humiliation. 

A foul-laced retort bubbles to your surface when you realize that you were the only one called out that way. Peeved, you turn towards Eren, responsible for sanitizing and replacing the bedding of the stalls nearby, who manages to evade any criticism, ready to unleash how you really felt about the venerated squad leader. 

However, the words die in your mouth when you see how absolutely _livid_ Eren looks. 

“Dick,” he snipes crudely, out of Levi’s earshot and into yours. He plunges his soiled mop into his bucket of soapy mixture, sloshing the solution around so harshly, a backsplash coats the bottom of his trousers. The spillage doesn’t faze him. 

“You okay?” He asks, his darkened emerald eyes laying his unease onto you.

You nod grimly, reading the heat behind his concern clearly. You didn’t want to cause any additional stress Eren’s way. Forcing yourself to bear a grin, you reply, “The sooner we work, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”

Those around you agree wholeheartedly and you all throw yourselves into fulfilling the daunting, filthy task on hand. 

When the stern captain returns, he curtly issues a pass during his inspection, eliciting a palpable release of relief into the taut air. 

His stricter temperament naturally found its way into your group’s conversation at dinner when you all sank into your seats.

“Anyone else feel like the Captain has been picking on Mikasa and F/N lately?” Reiner asks, fingers twitching against the long, dinner table. His deep set brows retract further into his forehead, sinking in the pinnacle of his concern.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jean jumps in from his spot left to you. “Is there something going on with you lately?” He asks you genuinely, curious about any further insight, wearing his frown lightly. 

You shake your head, unable to resolve your own puzzling experience.

“Maybe since they’re among the top cadets, he’s worried about losing them once we have our expedition?” Krista suggests as an idea, one that is overly optimistic, but still nice to pretend to take into consideration.

Mikasa stays silent during this exchange, again seemingly unbothered by being a conversation piece as she takes in her meal. 

“You can be a little reckless,” Eren scolds her casually, pointing out a couple maneuvers he noticed earlier.

She turns to him and replies seriously, “I’ll do better next time.”

You frown at your class’s top cadet.

“No, Mikasa, you’re absolutely fine. I’m the one that really needs to be more careful. I already injured myself like an idiot. Just have to work harder next time,” you say, stabbing into your potato a little more harshly. 

It doesn’t feel good being called out like this by your peers, even if it’s out of concern. It’s a feeling you rather not get used to. 

“It’s alright, F/N. We all see how well you perform and how hard you’re working,” Bertholdt says, from your right. You don’t often sit next to the astoundingly tall cadet. As you peer up at him, you have to crane your neck an almost full ninety degrees. 

You briefly wonder if the air tastes any different up there. 

Instead of amusing that thought, you exhale a brief sigh. 

“Thanks Bertholdt,” you tell the usually quiet but kind cadet.

* * *

Eren apparently has been more distracted during his experiments. 

The reasoning has been unclear, but occasionally his titan will just stop responding to his Captain and his team. 

Armin has recently been called in to help Hange with the dilemma. They have been eager to consult with Armin, and the rookie was just as eager to help back. Frankly, with the expedition mere days away, the higher officials aren’t willing to chance anything.

Armin suggested a rotational observation with Eren’s closest friends. He explains that the pressure may be getting to Eren, and he may find more comfort being around comradery. 

The young intellect’s deduction appears correct. When each of his friends are brought in one by one, his titan seems more responsive and more at ease. 

Plus, it’s been great for everyone to see Eren’s titan transformation and powers in action.

“You ready to amaze me with your prowess, Eren?” you try to irk the boy, today being your turn to accompany him.

He scoffs down at you, matching your tone. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen me in action. You’ll see just how much I’ve since improved.”

You roll your eyes lightly at his arrogance, drawling out teasingly, “Oookay, hotshot.”

“Cadet F/N,” Levi cuts in, ending your banter. “Stay by my team. They’re observing from the high ground nearby.”

Eren’s face darkens just a fracture as his Captain addresses you more casually. Why is he using your first name when he isn’t even doing so with Armin, who has been there all week?

You dutifully follow his orders, trailing Mike as he leads the way to the observation station, throwing a quick wave Eren’s way as you leave. 

Throughout Eren’s session, you thought he was doing really excellently. Judging by the positive buzz from the crew around you, you weren’t alone with those notions. 

However, whenever Eren has a moment of rest, he’ll turn his face up towards your group of soldiers, and _just stares at you_. 

You have to admit, you’ll stare back, as there’s something captivating about his enormous, powerful titan in all its awe. His strong, powerful gait that he wears in this titan that shakes the earth. The way the breeze tosses wisps of his silky brown hair, the same way it does when he’s human. 

It doesn’t take long for the more meticulous soldiers to notice what Eren is doing. So when you catch yourself letting him steal your attention, you readily snap yourself out of it. You catch his sight with your subtly waving hands, pointing them towards Hange and Levi, wanting to channel his complete concentration back onto them. He eventually does, catching on to your message. 

You muse off-handedly that it’s too easy for him to draw attention even with his subtle actions.

Then again, nothing about Eren screams subtle. 

Meanwhile, off on the edge of the field closer to Eren, Hange is figuring out how to make a couple adjustments to Eren’s experiments of the day. 

So far, they have been satisfied with how Eren is transforming and performing. 

It’s also undeniable that Eren’s shown even more improvement today. 

While they are running down their notes, exploring the will of that boy, there’s an obvious connection that seems disingenuous if Hange doesn’t name it in the moment.

Your presence.

Also, another thing is clear.

In between tasks, Eren’s titan won’t stop trying to turn towards you at every moment that he gets. Hange had to fire off orders quickly to keep the boy on track. He did ultimately complete every action off Hange’s list today.

The revered researcher twists their head towards Armin as their squad winds down for the day.

“You think she has influence over him?” Hange asks the tian-shifter’s long-held friend privately, not needing to further elaborate.

Armin shakes his head furiously, to indicate a negative to their question.

However, he does choose to remain silent on the matter, not wanting to confirm or deny his best friend’s intentions, drawing his lips into a tight line, opting to scribble in his notebooks instead.

* * *

Saturday could not have come soon enough. Although you usually only receive morning training on Saturday, the Regiment upped the last few Saturdays into full training for the trip outside the walls. 

Endurance and speed were the name of the game today. 

Morning runs and afternoon sprints. Relay courses and aerobic exercises. Drills enhancing your fast-twitch muscles. 

You ran through the training today almost gleefully, thrilled to exert skills that play to your strengths.

Your performance and agility does not go unnoticed. 

Maneuvering yourself with your squad of four, you clean up their mess with your blades, taking care of targets that only received shallow cuts, thus securing what remains of your objections.

The soldier who failed to clear his targets the first go keeps apologizing his guilt onto you, but you won’t hear it, insisting that he would have done the same for you.

“We look out for each other, right?” you start off stating your rhetorical question towards your squadmate, but inevitably looks past him to catch Eren’s face, standing a mere couple feet away. Eren grins, nodding an affirmation to your question. You’re not even sure if your squadmate responded to you, being too busily focused by another. 

Levi then glides up to you, settling his standing position close to you, continuing his instructions for the rest of the squads that were left in conquering the course. 

While he stays put, continuing to administer his duties, you find his proximity a little unnerving. Did you do something again to cause him to lose faith in you? The thought gnaws against your self-esteem uncomfortably. 

However, Levi’s next words addressed towards you offer some clarity. 

“Good work. Keep it up.”

Your eyes widen, surprised at the content. Have your ears deceived you? The leader’s lack of fierce scowling and sarcasm indicate you likely didn’t imagine those words. 

An exuberant smile stretches across your face that beams with his praise, which you try to contain but end up shining his way.

“Yes Captain!”

Whipping your head back towards Eren, you grin, happy that he overheard the Captain give you praise, especially after Levi has been so harsh on you all week. 

After the current squad finishes their drill, Levi walks away, leaving room for Eren to take his place. You elbow him playfully with a dancing smirk on your face, “Did you hear that?”

Before Eren could answer, you were all dismissed for dinner, the crowd winding down to migrate towards the central campus grounds. 

You thought maybe Eren wasn’t in the mood to entertain you, so you shrug his lack of response off. 

While you were busy adjusting your gear, something flickers in Eren’s narrowed eyes as he flits his sight between you and his captain. 

He doesn’t voice it, but instead picks up his speed towards the mess hall and asks you to keep up.

You quickly follow, matching his rushed pace, not realizing Eren just wanted to put as much distance between you and Levi as possible. 

But of course, your keenly observant captain notices.

* * *

You were ravenous when you finally sat down between Sasha and Mikasa and across from Eren and Connie at your dinner table. There isn’t any assigned table seating, but your group of comrades find comfort in sticking together each evening. As usual you appreciate the routine. 

The chatter from your table brings you comfort as you slowly ingest your dinner, savoring what little favor you’re able to leech out of your meal. 

“Oh, Squad Levi is here!” Sasha pipes up, pointing to the arriving guests.

You follow her announcement and sure enough, there they were. What was the Captain’s team doing here? They usually eat way later after the cadets.

Petra and Eld both nod in your direction to which you return the same gesture. You shrug off your curiosity. It doesn’t affect you in any way, so it doesn’t matter.

Or so you thought. 

Halfway through dinner, Levi makes his way towards your table. 

“F/N,” Levi states, stopping behind your seat. 

Your entire table notices that he doesn’t refer to you with your cadet title.

Or uses your last name formally.

You straighten your back and drop your spoon, to naturally salute him. 

“Yes, Captain Levi.”

He arches an eyebrow and scoffs at the rippling splash of soup that jumped out of your bowl, “Drop saluting formalities when we’re off duty.”

You release your hand and posture, unable to help the slight furrow of your brows. Strange, he’s never seemed to give that impression before. 

“My squad has noticed your stellar improvement. Your astute tactics and resolve are evident in the field. The Scouts are honored to have a soldier of your caliber in our ranks.” Levi says his praise so casually, but you swear you pick up on specks of pride with his slight inflections.

Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment. Although other captains and even members of Levi’s own squad have spoken similar words to you during your brief time with the Scouts, this praise feels elevated coming from the esteemed leader.

“Th-thank you Sir. I’ll continue giving my blood, sweat, and tears to the Scouts,” you declare in response.

He huffs as he clamps a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

To your surprise.

To everyone else’s surprise. 

Your face inadvertently heats at the unprompted contact. 

“Please ensure that the rest of your team is able to keep up with your dedication. It’s critical to the success of our future expeditions and fight to ensure humanity’s survival,” he continues.

He lifts up his eyes to meet Eren’s stiff face.

“Isn’t that right Yeager? We can’t let mishaps ruin everybody else’s hard work, especially when my team is betting everything on your ugly, titan shoulders.”

The icy change in the tone of his words stuns you. You feel burned, even when that message was not directed towards you. Where is this coming from? You thought Eren did excellently this week, especially after you all got to see him work his titan powers. He’s clearly shown massive improvement and control over his titan form. 

Levi keeps his hand on your shoulder, absently stroking it as he stares down Eren. Whose grip on his spoon is so tight, his hand turns nearly white. 

“Yes, Captain,” he barely mutters out.

Satisfied, Levi slides his hand off your shoulder and makes his way back towards his team at the other end of the mess hall. Petra smiles at you from afar, but when she turns to the rest of her squad, their conversation appears a lot more serious than it had moments ago. 

And then, everything clicks.

All those invasive and lingering physical touches all week weren’t by accident.

Levi was _purposefully_ using you to get a reaction out of Eren. Why else would he go out of his way to draw such attention to you in front of him?

Hopefully, Eren connects these pieces too. 

You still have to fight down your body’s instinctive flush at Levi’s public display of attention and urgently reach for your glass of water.

Your eyes catch Eren’s and he looks almost angry with you. You attempt to telepathically get him to see what Levi was doing. How he is just using you as a means to rile Eren up.

To test his emotional capacity.

But, you don’t think your message reached him. 

“Wow, F/N congrats on earning Captain’s praise!” Krista exclaims, clasping both her two hands together excitedly. 

“See? You had nothing to worry about. I knew you would prove yourself,” Reiner offers to you as encouragement from the ends of the table, Bertoldt nodding alongside him. 

“Th-thank you,” you express again. The embarrassment from the attention rushes into your cheeks, and you can’t help but hide partly behind the back of your hand. Before you can continue any further, the rest of your friends chime in, inserting their own opinions about what they just witnessed. 

“What did you do to piss him off this time?” Ymir asks casually, tossing a mischievous look Eren’s way that goes ignored. 

“Not so special now, are you Eren? You’re the one who can turn into a titan, but F/N still catches Captain Levi’s attention,” Jean jeers, throwing an arm around the flustered boy. You don’t know why they chose to sit together today. It’ll only spell trouble. 

A few more jabs get tossed around before Eren finally snaps.

“All of you shut up, I don’t need to take any of this shit!” Eren shouts loudly, glaring at everyone who interjected with comments earlier.

The bitter male then promptly abandons his dinner, slamming his utensils down loudly, and storms out the double doors before any of you can stop him.

Yeah. Your message definitely didn’t even reach the first layer of his thick skull.

You dejectly turn to your friends and aim your obvious disappointment towards them.

“Guys, that’s not funny. Eren’s relationship with his captain is already pretty rocky. Clearly this is a sore spot for him,” you chastise.

“Hmm, we don’t think it’s Captain Levi that he’s pissed about,” Connie states cheekily, leaning his face on a propped elbow. 

Normally you would go along with Connie’s teasing, but today you pitch your half-eaten bread roll at him. He yelps when it bounces harshly off his forehead, as Sasha then steals it off the rebound, gleefully stashing the ration in her mouth.

You glance at the door again, wondering if it’s appropriate for you to follow him.

Maybe he won’t want to talk to you.

He looked genuinely upset. 

“Come with me F/N,” Mikasa gently urges, laying a hand on your right shoulder and pushing lightly as she rises from her seat.

You don’t need to be told twice.

* * *

Your voices echo throughout the hallways as you and Mikasa call out to him. Nothing responds back. 

Mikasa verbally divides up the campus and instructs you to search the western portion while she searches the eastern parts.

After aimlessly searching for several minutes, you grow increasingly more frustrated as you kick your speed up through the corridors into a light jog, hoping to catch a glance of the hot-headed brunette. As the sun sets further and your shadows draw longer, your hope of finding the boy grows more and more dim. 

Just as you were about to give up, you finally catch a peek of him. His lonesome figure rests, slumped over steps that overlook the courtyard, far away from the higher trafficked hallways. 

You slowly and softly amble over, as if your loud steps would startle him into bolting again. 

“Eren.”

He doesn’t look at you. 

You edge closer behind him.

“Can I sit with you?”

A silence endures, and when he stubbornly holds onto his non-answer, you contemplate walking away to seek out Mikasa instead. She’ll know how to handle his mood. 

However, he eventually scoots his body over, granting you the delicate space on his shared step. You nimbly slide in next to him, lightly brushing up against his leg in your haste.

Although relieved that he allowed you to stay with him, you ponder your next words, ultimately deciding that it’s best for him to speak when he feels ready.

“I can’t do anything right enough to make Captain Levi feel confident in me,” he finally sighs, looking off past the fruitless apple trees and into the hazy night sky. 

You trace his sight and sigh, releasing a deep breath into the chilling evening air. 

It must be difficult for Eren to carry the pressure and burdens that weigh on him every day. Especially under the unforgivable orders of someone as intolerant as Levi. 

Of course he would be upset that his captain hasn’t been particularly warm towards him yet. 

“You can’t let him rattle you, Eren. You know you’re better than that,” you say softly, trying to defuse his frustrated disposition.

He scoffs, running his right hand along the wrinkles in his pants before working to smooth them out.

“The Scouts believe in you Eren. You bring such obvious value, they wouldn’t have fought so aggressively to keep you otherwise,” you continue.

He stays silent, but doesn’t disagree with your words. 

“Besides, Captain Levi wasn’t serious. He was clearly just testing you,” you say pointedly, slightly irked that he couldn’t think of the larger picture at play.

“Which you failed by the way,” you tease lightly, nudging his knee with yours.

He pivots to eye you sharply. 

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he mutters, ignoring your reasoning. “Clearly, I’m not the only one who can make you squirm like a schoolgirl.”

Your mouth loosens at the jab. Your features can’t help but twist into an expression that’s dark.

Really dark.

You didn’t like seeing this sort of jealousy rear its ugly head. Deciding not to merit the accusation, you clench your jaw and fixate a deep glare back towards Eren instead. 

Waiting for him to respond to himself.

It didn’t take long for the soldier to eat his own words. 

Eren falters at your harsh reaction. His face quickly flushes in embarrassment as he realizes his fault in the matter. He brings a hand up and weaves it into his hair, squeezing his sleek locks. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes quietly, flushing lightly from shame. 

You push yourself off your seat and move to stand in front of Eren.

His curious gaze follows you as you bring both of his large, calloused hands into your own while you bend down to meet him at eye-level. 

You really didn’t like seeing him doubt this deeply. 

“Eren. I’m only going to say this once, are we clear?”

He nods, enthralled by how physically close the two of you are right now. He can smell your favorite scent from your body wash and it calms him. 

You breathe deeply to steady yourself.

“I don’t see our Captain that way. You and I?” you pull your intermingled hands back and forth between you in emphasis. “Our bond is ours alone. If anyone ever questions what we have, don’t pay them any mind. You understand?” You confess without thinking too deeply about your words, gripping his hands tightly. 

You just wanted to be honest with him.

Eren stares at you with wide, susceptible eyes.

It takes him a minute to process your admission. Did you mean what he thinks you meant?

Deciding to take your words directly for what they were, Eren nods after soaking them in. 

A soft smile spreads across your face as the tension seems to roll off his. Your satisfaction grows when his worries visibly ease away. 

Your hands slowly slip away and you move to straighten yourself.

He doesn’t let you go.

Eren nearly yanks you forward, tipping your balance.

You yelp at the sudden movement and your knees ache sharply as they contact the concrete steps. However, you instantly forget the discomfort when his arms weave around your waist and embrace you tightly. 

Have you hugged Eren before? You’re sure you have, but somehow this feels _different_. 

When the initial shock wears off, your body molds to fit more comfortably into the spaces between his.  
Snaking your arms around his neck, you press yourself closer to his warm chest. You feel his heart pound gently against your racing one. He smells good, you think to yourself as you feel your endorphins release. 

You revel in it. 

“Okay,” Eren finally breathes into your ear after what feels like a near lifetime, breath tickling your eardrums.

“I trust you.”

“I trust you too,” you reply back without hesitation.

Neither of you say anything else as a mutual understanding settles between you.

It doesn’t need to be spoken out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi, work obligations took over when I wanted to get this chapter out earlier so I appreciate your patience! Thank you for reading!!


	12. Mikasa's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mikasa has some thoughts.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

Mikasa has observed a noticeable shift between you and Eren recently. 

She tried to ignore it at first, passing it off as your inner circle naturally becoming closer after the trials and triumph of Trost. She hadn’t imagined that most of her close comrades from the 104th training corps would end up standing with her as a Scout. Truthfully, it's not like she had imagined this direction for herself either.

But, Mikasa has dedicated herself to wherever Eren will go. She will keep on fighting for as long as she continues to survive in this cruel, cruel world. It’s just, her path towards life’s victory seems to shine more brightly with Eren by her side. 

Something inside Mikasa moved when she saw Eren embrace you. 

She had pushed you to search for Eren with her because you looked conflicted about it at the time. She knew you two were close. Just not _that_ close.

Not until she saw the way his eyes glued onto you, as he wrapped his arms around you more tightly. The way they softened when you enveloped him back. The way he lingered the rest of himself onto you. 

The sight stopped Mikasa in her tracks from across the courtyard, out of your views. 

Why hasn’t Eren looked at her in that way before?

A small pang of something unpleasant hits her heart. 

Her most important person sighs beside her, running a hand through his hair again, as their steps sync up in pace naturally. Eren would often run ahead of her, fascinated by what’s around every corner when they were younger or what the fresh markets would bring in every weekend, so Mikasa has adjusted her pace in order to keep up with him more easily. 

“Eren, remember not to exert yourself so much during your training. The experiments leave you so exhausted the next day, are you making sure to keep open communication with Levi and Hange?” the girl asks, worried that he’s overworking himself.

The main corridors they course through are crowded and rowdy as cadets and soldiers from all directions collide just to split towards their destinations. 

“Mikasa, I am and I’m fine. You don’t have to keep reminding me so often,” Eren grumbles, stifling a yawn with a hand over his mouth, still a little sleepy this morning. 

“Are you sleeping enough? I know Hange’s experiments can also be - ”

She is abruptly interrupted mid-sentence when he suddenly shouts your name.

Despite the noise, Mikasa doesn’t remiss that Eren is able to pick you out so easily in the crowd. 

Tracing his sight, she looks up for a view of you and Jean crossing paths with her and Eren, both wearing your full gears, a rare sight in the flux.

“Morning Eren, morning Mikasa,” you greet, eyes still droopy from the early hours, but smile a dazzling ray of energy. You looked like you were in a good mood. 

“Hi Mikasa,” Jean says, intentionally ignoring her companion, who could care less. The pair still has residual flames they refuse to address.

Mikasa nods at you both, with a light greeting in response. 

“Are you both continuing your practice today?” Eren asks, nudging his head towards your gear.

Even though Sundays are your days off, it’s not uncommon to see the more diligent soldiers put in extra work. 

“F/N’s still trying to keep up with me out there, so she asked me to help out today,” Jean answers, turning an eye towards you. “Glad to see you finally admit I’m the one with the superior skills.”

“Yeah, okay Jean whatever you say,” you dismiss your training partner, used to his haughtiness by now. “I just mentioned that I wanted some more individual practice and you happened to tag along. Don’t misconstrue my invitation,” you say with a smirk, elbowing the cadet. 

“You didn’t deny it,” Jean smirks back.

Eren looks almost a little stunned as he witnesses your exchange. “ If you wanted a practice partner, you could have asked me,” he addresses you.

Jean scoffs as his suggestion. “Your ODM maneuvering is way worse than hers.” The skilled cadet then narrows his gaze suspiciously at Eren. “What’s there to help?”

Eren turns an irate eye towards the blunt mouthed brunette, “ I wasn’t asking you horseface.”

Usually, Jean would be peeved at the nickname but decided to swallow his annoyance and wears a shit-eating grin instead. "Seems like you have ulterior intentions.”

Mikasa stays silent during this exchange but notices a faint, almost unnoticeable layer of pink settle on the edges of Eren’s cheeks as he denies Jean’s accusation vehemently.

She hasn’t seen him like this before. 

“I can grab my gear and meet you both out there in ten minutes,” Eren says ignoring Jean’s comment, turning towards you instead, who looks surprised that he’s willing to give up his only rest day.

Mikasa quickly interjects, “ Eren, Sundays are specifically carved out to be your recovery days. You won’t be at your best this week if you go.”

He brushes her off with a wave of his hand, “It’s fine, I won’t be out long.”

Before Mikasa can object again, you pipe up, “Hey, you really should rest today. Jean and I are going to do targeted practice that will get pretty intense, so it’ll probably impact your experiments later.”

Eren falters at your objection, eyes layered with disappointment. 

“We’re counting on you to be at your best,” Jean says, crossing his arms. The statement came out crudely, but it’s layered with authentic concern, so that’s as nice as he is willing to be with the boy. 

“You should definitely take advantage of your break,”you say. “We’ll see you around Eren.” You turn to lead the way towards the practice grounds, throwing him a small wave on your way out. Jean follows suit, tossing a farewell to Mikasa.

Eren finally accepts that this is the best choice for him and he almost sulks as he waves good-bye to you back. 

As you leave, Mikasa watches him stare at you a little too long for her liking.

* * *

For the second time this week, Eren breaks away mid-conversation with Mikasa to go to you. 

Mikasa cuts off her sentence when she sees that he clearly isn’t paying anymore heed to her words.

She frowns, watching him skid over to you, while you throw a light banter in greeting. He’s been doing that more and more. 

They were previously talking about the Scouts and their upcoming mission beyond the walls. Eren was musing about what he’ll see out there, elated to finally reach his dream of leaving the oppressive structures that trap his sense of freedom. 

His eyes had shown brightly, green shades dancing with his desires for slaying titans and exploring the unknown lands as he eagerly spills them out for Mikasa to hear.

Although Mikasa doesn't have the same level of zeal for what's beyond the walls, opting to worry more about the dangers that the soldiers will walk into as they face enemy territory, she likes seeing Eren display such energy, that sparkles with his passions when he talks about his dreams. 

It’s the way he powers through this world. Living life fearlessly, fighting for what he believes in. 

However, Eren’s spirit _radiates_ when he talks to you. 

Prickles of jealousy crawl across her skin as she watches Eren light up in your presence. The subtle ways he shifts himself towards you, as if he wanted to direct all his senses at you. The way he nods earnestly along with your speech, keeping his mouth closed more often, as if your words were too precious to overtalk. 

And the way his eyes drill into you, refusing to leave. 

Mikasa perceives the shift in his attention and doesn’t like it. 

So she selfishly begins pulling Eren away from you.

It was more subtle at first, making excuses that other officers were looking for him, unnaturally ending your conversations together. She also ensured that she gets paired with Eren during your practice drills. It didn’t take long for her to then just take Eren’s wrist and drag him away, with quick excuses under her tongue as to why they had to leave. 

She would watch your face fall each time, but you never said anything to stop her. Simply wearing a gentle smile as you wave your good-byes, promising to catch up with them later. She noticed that you would always include her in your pledges, not just to Eren. 

Armin, Eren, and Mikasa are walking out of the dinner hall together, after another late afternoon. The childhood friends will often meet after their last meal together, just to be around each other as they catch up for the day.

Mikasa appreciates the familiarity. 

They turn the corner and watch you hurry out of Hange’s office, papers in hand. The titan researcher likely asked you to help them run an errand, knowing you won’t say no to the power of a higher authority. 

You sigh after closing Hange’s door, rubbing your forehead as you mutter to yourself under your breath, something about Hange’s long titan lectures. 

Looking up, the annoyance on your face slips away when you see the trio. Your brief exchange together doesn’t last long as you insist that you have to get going, wanting to finish your task at hand.

Turning, you walk away after bidding farewell, hurriedly heading down the opposite path. 

Eren still stares after you, even after you disappear around the bend. 

“What do you think of F/N?” Mikasa asks Eren casually, causing him to break his focus on the empty space.

“Why do you ask? I think she’s fine,” Eren says, raising an eyebrow at the question that came out of the blue.

“Agreed. She’s easy to get along with and is a strong team player,” Armin adds in, from Mikasa’s other side.

That’s not enough. She wanted to examine Eren’s thoughts further.

“Eren, do you have special feelings for her?” Mikasa boldly questions. Her onyx orbs pierce through his surprised turquoise irises, as she digs into his response. 

Armin watches closely. 

Eren sputters out a denial, quickly morphing his features into a deep scowl at the insinuation. “Also, this part of my life isn’t any of your business.”

Mikasa’s eyes widened. “Why not? We share everything else together.”

Eren shoves his hands into his pockets as a light frown persists. “I still disagree.”

“I just don’t want you to get distracted,” Mikasa tries to explain her reasoning. 

Eren only gets more defensive as they continue the conversation. “Mikasa, you don’t have to keep doing this. You’re not my mom, _so stop acting like it all the damn time_.”

Mikasa gasps at his searing words that stun her, causing a fault in her step. Even Armin drops his jaw, startled as he shifts his eyes anxiously between the two.

Eren only deepens his glare at Mikasa. 

Before she can placate his fire, Eren walks away hastily, in a manner that clearly signals he wanted to be left alone. 

When Mikasa finally clears her throat to speak, he’s already gone.

“I was just asking,” Mikasa says, more to herself than the remaining friend. Truthfully, she felt more hurt by Eren’s physical reaction more than his heated words.

He looked so angry with her. 

“He overreacted because he wasn’t ready for it,” Armin shares, shaking his own head, as if clearing it from the scene he just witnessed. 

“I think there are just some things Eren has yet to figure out. I wouldn’t take it personally, Mikasa,” Armin says with a gentle, knowing smile. 

“Get some rest. We can’t spend all our time worrying about him,” Armin says reassuringly.

She knows he’s right.

Mikasa picks up the frayed edges of her burgundy scarf and plays with it absentmindedly, the familiar twirls of her fingers dragging across the old thing calming her with each stroke.

* * *

Early one morning, Mikasa wanders into the library during the small break she has between breakfast and her first classroom lesson.

She needed some peace and quiet away from the usual noise that plagues these halls.

Evidently, you and Eren thought the same thing.

Mikasa observes Eren seat himself next to you at your empty table, from behind a couple of fully loaded bookshelves that kept her well out of view. You were evidently delighted to see the boy, a wide smile setting on your face as you greet him. 

She’s sure you wouldn’t mind if she joined as you both so she quietly makes her way over to you two.

“Where’s Mikasa?” she hears you ask, not quite in your field of vision yet.

“Don’t know,” Eren replies in a cavalier manner that Mikasa is used to.

“Why do you say it like that?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together. Guess you’re not used to it in the same way yet.

Eren shrugs, crossing his arms while a scowl settles in.

“She’s so overbearing sometimes. It makes me feel like I’m just a child,” Eren complains with a resonating sigh.

Mikasa ceases her movement, still out of both your sight, frowning as she overhears this conversation. Why can’t Eren see she’s just trying to keep him alive and safe? Doesn’t he know how reckless he is? If Mikasa isn’t there to step in for him, who will?

She hears you giggle and her frown deepens as she watches you reach over and lightly pat your hand on top of Eren’s a couple of times. 

“She cares about you, Eren. That’s why she looks out for you so hard. Appreciate it before it’s gone,” you chastise, keeping your hand on top of Eren’s.

A flicker of regret darts across Eren’s face as he looks at you. Sighing deeply, he flips his hand over, gently brushing his fingertips over yours, your own palm turning upwards, as he buries one side of his face in the other that’s propped against the table.

“Is Mikasa important to you?” you ask rhetorically.

Eren rolls his eyes lightly at the obvious question. “She’s family.”

He shifts a little more in his seat, grazing his fingers against your outstretched ones again.

“I shouldn’t have to apologize though,” he states in a tone that seeks your validation. 

You both stare at your dancing fingers that barely avoid each other, while you contemplate your next words. 

“I’m not your counselor so I can’t advise you on anything,” you say, pausing your little movements for a moment to say more seriously, “But the Eren I know, would want to act like a decent person.”

You then grasp all of Eren’s fingers, pulling him by the knuckles to be a little bit closer to you. “Okay?” you tease out, shaking his hand in an exaggerated manner.

He peers at you again, scowl easing away entirely now.

“Fine.”

“Good,” you reply, releasing his hand to turn back to your notebook full of writing. “Now, review this formation with me?”

Mikasa silently turns away from you both, processing everything she just witnessed. 

The next time she sees Eren, he pulls her aside to speak more privately.

“I’m sorry.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen at the apology. 

“I shouldn’t have said what I did last time. I didn’t mean it. I know that it’s only because you care,” Eren says, looking at her with remorseful eyes.

The rest of her face slacks, honestly surprised to hear his words.

Eren’s so stubborn. When was the last time he apologized like this? He usually just does whatever he wants, only realizing too late the consequences of his actions when others have to clean it up. 

“It’s okay, Eren,” Mikasa accepts, relieved that he’s no longer upset with her. 

As they walk together to their next engagement, she can’t help but wonder if he would have expressed those words to her without your interference.

* * *

It takes Mikasa a couple more days before she builds the courage to ask you directly about Eren. 

She catches you after dinner, seeking your support in reviewing some of the classroom lectures that Captain Ness has been spewing all week. 

It was a pretty weak excuse, but you still wholeheartedly agreed to spend time with the girl, never questioning why she didn’t ask her blonde, genius friend instead.

You’re both currently seated across from each other in the library, no one else in your near vicinity. The flames in your lantern are running dangerously low, stretching out the shades along your table, connecting your shadows together. 

“That’s my understanding of these expedition techniques, what do you think, Mikasa?” you ask the top cadet, breaking her out of her trance. She didn’t hear a word of what you said, but still nodded along and agreed with you anyways.

Your eyes narrow and you close your notebook, lacing your fingers and placing them squarely on top of its new, forest green cover.

“Is there something on your mind?” you ask her point blank, curious why the usually quiet soldier called you down here. She seemed distracted all evening. Her flickering gazes and nods that were slightly timed off didn’t slip your observation. 

It’s not often that the two of you spend time together like this. 

The other female isn’t ready to share her thoughts yet, so you wait patiently, in no hurry for the remainder of the evening. 

Mikasa finally opens her mouth, and you preen your ears towards her keenly.

“Ever since we were young, Eren would often rush ahead and make decisions in the heat of the moment. Always doing what he believes is best. Even though he doesn’t always think things through, it’s because he’s already set his heart to what he wants. I can’t always stop him. But I will always be there to protect him,” she says, words rushing out naturally once she started.

You silently soak in her words, adding in a couple of nods along the way.

Her dark orbs bounce within the empty space between you two at the pale, wooden table as she continues confessing what’s on her mind. 

“Eren’s one of the last people I have left close to me. We went through a lot together,” Mikasa shares, gripping her scarf tightly. Her tone dips into something more serious, almost intimidating, as she continues, “Eren is someone who is precious to me. I hope you understand.”

Mikasa’s stern, acute gaze meets yours slightly startled ones and she visibly sees a chill run through you. Despite the new tension in the air, you smile gently against her intensity, assessing the insinuation behind her statement.

Pausing, you unlace your fingers and clasp one hand on top of the other, fidgeting just the slightest as you tread carefully. 

Her statement could have been taken as a warning for you to back off and respect her prior relationship with Eren.

But you didn’t want to see it that way. 

“You two should come first with each other. Family always comes first,” you say sincerely.

The other girl feels a little apprehensive that you agreed so readily, and a sneaking feeling of suspicion starts to take place in her gut. 

What are you getting at?

"As someone who doesn't have any more ties to this world, I understand how special Eren is to you," you admit to your comrade across the table.

“Eren and I are just friends, but the closeness that you two have doesn’t compare,” you say, allowing Mikasa to gouge the authenticity of your statement by racking your face and body language intently.

Oh. Mikasa’s eyes widened.

You’re backing off. 

She drops her hand from her scarf to bring both her palms down on the surface in front of her, tracing its smoothness with the pads of her thumbs.

Her brows crease as she chews on the inside of her bottom lip thoughtfully.

This wasn’t what she expected. 

You weren’t possessive of Eren’s attention and you didn’t make her feel bad or any less for holding onto Eren so tightly.

Because you fully recognize just how important Eren is to Mikasa. 

"You'll protect him?" she asks, slicing the silence.

You nod your head, with a determined, honest look in your eye that is difficult to question.

"As much as you would me," you respond back.

Maybe it was the way that you answered back so earnestly with integrity, but it made her want to trust you.

And she did trust you.

You clearly demonstrated respect for her ties with Eren.

Mikasa is willing to admit that you and Eren are clearly drawn to each other, any moron can see that.

Yet, it doesn’t bother her as much as it did before.

Just as long as her protection of Eren doesn’t conflict with whatever your relationship is with him. 

After your conversation together, Mikasa sees more clearly why Eren is so captivated by you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fair warning, I don’t think I do Mikasa much justice in this fic series (including future chapters), but am trying to with the best of my abilities aha. Thanks for reading!


	13. Levi's Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You and Levi have a chat.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Attack on Titan.

You stare at the worn, mahogany door in front of you. The swirls on the wooden frame stare right back. 

Mocking you for your hesitance.

You’re outside of Levi’s office. 

Hange had encountered you earlier in the hallway to inform that the Special Operations Squad Leader wished to speak with you. Despite their gleeful tone, you instantly dreaded the conversation.

You take a few deep breaths to calm your nerves and raise your hand again to knock. You didn’t feel confident enough with your nerves your first few attempts, as you paced back and forth to gather your thoughts. Before your knuckles make contact with the door, his voice bellows beyond the barrier.

“Brat, are you coming inside or what?”

You jump at Levi’s sudden intrusion. You hastily open the door to find him only a few short feet away, just to the left of the frame. His hands dig through his bookshelf, glancing at you in mild annoyance. He clearly heard your wavering footsteps. 

“Good evening, Sir,” you salute after you shut the door. He waves your formalities aside and continues shuffling between stale, old pages.

“You asked to speak with me?” you say apprehensively. 

Levi stares at you for a few moments, almost as if he’s sizing you up.

“What is your relationship with Eren, honestly?” he asks, cutting right to the chase.

Your eyebrows furrow and you instinctively gnaw at the inside of your lip. 

Somehow, you knew this would come up. 

The extra pairs of eyes on the two of you during Eren’s experiments and training did not escape you. You knew deep down those sidelined whispers were about your affinity with one another. You knew Levi was playing the bounds of this association with Eren recently. Scouting him out while using you as a pawn in his master plan. 

As the deadly soldier tasked with monitoring Eren’s integration into the Scouts, of course he would notice you and Eren. 

But what exactly did Levi want to know?

Why Eren nearly abandoned Hange’s experiment as a Titan before, just to run to you?

Why you gravitate towards each other, on and off the battlefield?

Why you ultimately chose to dedicate yourself to the Scout Regiment instead of the Military Police?

Why your heart has chosen to flutter more around him recently?

You haven’t even completely admitted it to yourself.

“We’re good friends and comrades,” you state firmly.

Levi’s intimidating grey eyes search your own, and you pray you don’t give anything more away.

“You two seem awfully close just to be comrades,” he drawls, words laced with accusation. 

You didn’t like where this conversation was going. Levi is very direct with his digging, and if you weren’t careful, he may unearth some elements that you didn’t want exposed. 

The need to protect your friendship with Eren gives you the confidence to back-talk the intimidating captain. 

“Some people are just closer than others,” you reply coolly, inadvertently beginning to tighten your fists and stiffen your shoulders.

Your eyes narrow more suspiciously at the man. 

“Why are you asking me this? Have you asked Mikasa this same question?” you dare to inquire back.

You can practically feel the air chill. 

“I doubt he’s thinking about fucking his own sister,” Levi asserts vulgarly. 

You flinch at the allegation and resist the urge to succumb into shame. 

“I hardly think that’s appropriate.”

He snaps his book shut, narrowing his eyes into a frightful glare at your insubordinate tone. 

He doesn’t respond any further, and waves of doubt plummet your self-consciousness for speaking out against your superior. You shift your weight nervously from one foot to the other.

But your recent moments with Eren flash across your memory, invigorating you to stand your ground. You refuse to let Levi intimidate or make you question your closeness with Eren. 

“Captain Levi, I assure you, our relationship is close but I treasure our bond just as much as I do with any of my other teammates and friends,” you conclude earnestly. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your assertion, instead dragging his line of sight back onto his impressive, miniature library.

A silence settles into the space, and you wonder if he’s going to press on.

“If there isn’t anything else, Sir, I would like to attend dinner before the hall closes soon,” you request as you try to excuse yourself.

You patiently wait a couple more moments. 

Still, nothing from your stoic, unreadable captain.

After a few more, it looks like he really does not have anything more to add. You turn on your heel to head out, skin itching to abandon your spot. 

Just as you reach for the doorknob, the commanding officer shoots an arm out to keep the door closed. 

Levi’s not done talking to you.

You swallow to clear your throat. Nervously, you meet his stone cold gaze in anticipation.

Your heart stops at his next words.

"Don't compromise our asset."

You cast your eyes down to the ground, unable to meet your captain's telling look.

A dull anger emanates from your core as you know he’s forcing you to shift your perspective on Eren. Into seeing him less as a person and more as the invaluable utility that the military is desperately holding on to.

Your jaw clenches and your eyes flash vividly, remembering how the other branches and even some of the Scouts treated him like a monster, eager to eliminate him due to their own cowardice.

Yet, the flame fades as you remind yourself of the circumstances that you’re living in.

The current life within the walls where you and the rest of society are barely able to survive. Where the land is becoming less fertile and food rations draw smaller and smaller each harvest. Where tensions within the walls have become so taut, it’s nearly suffocating. Where the anticipation of the next titan attack lingers heavily, polluting the air, choking the joy right out of your reach. 

The current state of society that indirectly took your mother away from you.

Who are you to argue for what’s best for the sake of humanity?

"It's not like that, we’re just -" your words tumble out before you’re sharply cut off. 

"I see the way that brat looks at you, L/N. We can't have him hesitating or changing priorities in the heat of the moment," Levi states his facts.

 _With only days left before our first expedition_ , you add to his sentence silently as a courtesy.

“It’s not just the Military Police that won’t take kindly to disloyalty,” the esteemed veteran adds hauntingly. 

His implication evokes chills along your nervous system. You fight through them as you rack your brain, trying to align your thoughts with your captain’s and think about the situation logically.

Could your friendship with Eren really be that much of a threat to the Survey Scout’s operations?

No.

You suck in a breath as you finally admit a few pieces of information to yourself. Thoughts that you didn’t dare entertain seriously before. 

It’s not just your friendship.

_It’s how you two see each other._

You know Eren is more than just a tool to reclaim the land beyond the walls that will liberate your people. 

You know he’s more than just a ruthlessly efficient titan-killer that can easily save you, your teammate’s lives, and countless others.

You so clearly see him as a human being first beyond his titan powers.

Your heart tightens, as you explore deeper into your relationship.

Who is he to you?

Like you said, he’s one of your closest, dearest friends. 

Your eyes narrow as you dig deeper, staring off into a distance past your captain. 

He’s the suicidal maniac who inspired you to be courageous enough to join the Scouts and fight honorably for humanity’s survival.

Your fists tighten so hard, the pressure of your nails draws pain along your palms. 

He’s the person who convinced you to dream of a world where you can feel free enough to dance to your heart’s content and honor your ancestors.

Your heart pounds, compressed beats churning your pulse. 

Eren’s the person you want standing beside you when all of this is all over some day.

Gently, you shut your eyes, release all your pent up tension, and reluctantly sigh at your admittance. 

You’re almost angry that _Levi_ of all people forced yourself to finally confront your own feelings. But you knew it was no one else’s fault but your own for choosing to get close to Eren, snowballing all of this to how you feel today. 

Readjusting your eyes to the poorly lit office, you face Levi again, knowing he sees your pain as you gradually nod your head in understanding. You don’t bother to hide how you really feel. 

This goes far beyond the bond you and Eren share with each other. 

"And you can't risk your life meaninglessly either," your captain adds in, almost a little more softly. “ I meant what I said last week.”

That night at the mess hall. When Levi publicly vouched for your skills in front of your cohort. Where shortly after, you and Eren finally acknowledged some part of this evolving relationship that keeps drawing you more closely to each other.

You open your mouth to retort that you're not brainless and won't do that, but stop yourself.

Would you abandon your duties on the field and run to Eren if he's in danger?

Would you risk months of planning, your commanding officer’s orders, and potentially your team's lives for him?

Eren is essential to this next phase of fighting for humanity's survival.

However, you have value too. With the scout’s numbers dwindling drastically every time you encounter titans, you know your value grows with every victorious battle.

The Survey Corps can't afford to lose any more good members. Especially those who needlessly sacrificed themselves without thinking twice.

That is the message your dangerously experienced captain is sending you in his office today.

“I understand, Captain Levi,” you express honestly.

The older man makes note of your defeated expression that still holds the resolve of a soldier and finally releases the hold on his door. You hurriedly slip past him, but don’t feel much relief being out of his presence. 

You again, miss the look of pity he aimed at your retreating form.

As you wander down the corridor towards the mess hall, your appetite disappears. You don’t feel like forcing yourself to eat and enduring the concerns of your teammates.

Or face Eren in your current state. 

Turning around half-way, you choose instead to walk in the opposite direction.

You needed to be alone and get your head in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: These last two chapters were short, so I released them simultaneously. But I thought it was important to separate the two. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
